High School Highs
by X-File Writer
Summary: Mulder and Scully in high school, Giggle Girls, a mad ex-girlfriend, an unexpected twist, UST, and plenty of sunflower seeds...why not throw in a murder?


High School Highs

High School Highs

X-Files Fan Fiction

As follows will be an X-File fan fiction that takes place _before_ The X Files. It will sort of be a 'what if' story. What if Mulder and Scully met in high school, instead of at the FBI? (There will be a touch of "shippiness"/UST)

Disclaimer: The X-File characters are the sole property of Chris Carter, 1013 Production Studio, and The Fox Network. I mean no infringement.

It is a chilly fall day, a few weeks into the school year. I am new to this high school, even though I'm a sophomore. I just moved here.

My father is in the navy, so we are forced to move around a lot. The moving doesn't bother me as much as it used to. I now understand that you never actually 'stay in touch' with old friends once you move. Just like you can't expect to automatically be accepted in your new school. The popularity monarchy doesn't work like that.

At least this school made a valiant attempt to help me. They paired me up with this girl who's supposed to guide me around.

Her name is Jennifer and she's anything but help. She's only interested in chatting with her friends about boys. I might as well be invisible. Maybe I am. For now I will walk behind Jennifer and her clique, standing up straight like I can take on the world…or at least my next class. 

Well, I have kept my GPA up; that's why Jennifer's friend, Christy, noticed me. Not me exactly, my grade, another 'A' in Science.

"Wow! You're so smart, Dana," she had giggled. "You could be a doctor or something." Giggle. "Can you help me with my homework?" Giggle.

Oh brother, I thought while rolling my eyes. Great, my only use in this school will be to tutor female airheads. I have to find some friends of my own. If I don't find someone soon these 'Giggle Girls' will drive me over the edge.

So here I sit at lunch, crammed in-between two Giggle Girls. Why must I be put through this torture? I attempt to tune them out. My gaze roams around the cafeteria. On the other side there are a few seniors. They are supposed to try and have study hall only feet from our 'lunch circus.' 

I notice one guy off to the side of all the rest; his feet propped up on the table.

I risk communicating with the Giggle Girls. "Who's that guy over there? The one all by himself?"

"Ooh him?" gushes a Giggle Girl. "Isn't he hot? Too bad he's so…spooky." She puts on a pouting face. "His name is Fox." Giggle. "Mulder is what the _guys_ call him. He's great at baseball and basketball. And he's also smart, but…spooky. He reads weird stuff about _aliens_." She laughs.

I nod, not exactly believing all that she had said. It sounds like a lot of gossip and gossip is 99% fabricated. I decide to figure him out by myself.

I get up from the table and walk over to where he is seated. This is certainly uncharted territory for a sophomore. A few heads turn to watch me.

As I approach his table I notice a small pile of something black and slimy. I deduce they are spit out sunflower shells, messy.

My thoughts are interrupted when he begins to talk, I guess he noticed me after all. "Dana Katherine Scully, a sophomore who's new to this high school. You move around a lot because of your father's job. You are Catholic."

How does he know all that? I ask, "Is that my profile, Mulder?"

Why did I just call him that? I guess it just rolled off my tongue.

"No, _Scully_. Your name, grade, and the fact that you're new is public knowledge. The moving around part was an educated guess and you are wearing a cross, therefore, some form of Christian."

Did he just call me by my last name? Everyone calls me Dana, well except Dad. For him I am Starbuck. I touch the cross around my neck. I explain, "I got it for my 15th birthday."

Mulder nods, flips a page in his book, and continues reading. I guess that is a sign for me to leave. He has no interest in me; I'm just another sophomore girl.

Something suddenly occurred to me; Mulder must like to be alone. Why else would he not sit with his teammates and flirt with all the girls? Though there is a twinkle in his eye, I wouldn't put flirting beyond him.

I am not going to be blown off so easily. I still want to find out _Spooky's_ motives. He's the only one not going with the flow. I want to know why…and besides he _is_ kind of cute.

I pull out one of the chairs at his table and sit down. I swear I hear a few gasps, someone is watching. I don't mind; I haven't even gotten a social life at this new school, so I have nothing to loose.

Mulder gives me a what-are-you-up-to-now look. I fold my arms over my chest, showing him that I'm not going to budge.

*****

I was expecting a quiet study hall, well as quiet of one as you can have when you're ten feet from a circus. This circus consists of all the basic parts; clowns, muscle men, bearded women, elephants, and a few other odd balls. 

I don't know what I did wrong last year that made them decide to give me this period for a study hall, but I try to make the best of it. I sit here and observe all the sophomores. I have made it into a hobby of sorts, casting them into the various roles of The Circus.

The girls with over-applied make-up automatically become the Clowns. The Clowns hover in-between different parts of the crowd, giggling and gossiping with one another. They often stand close to the Muscle Men, applauding their powerful skill. The Muscle Men soak it all in and perform some more.

The Bearded Women and Elephants are the poor souls who don't quite have a part in the Circus, other than to stand in the corner and be stared at. Sometimes the Clowns take great joy in this activity and will devote whole hours to do nothing more than make fun these outcasts. 

I let my eyes wander over the words in my book. Then I notice something just out of my field of vision. I look up. A sophomore girl is approaching my table. She is new to this high school and I haven't yet cast her in the Circus. She is most definitely not a Clown or a Bearded Woman. If she wears any make-up at all is put on with such precision that her face looks perfect.

I quickly pull up her profile in the back of my mind. I have one for almost everyone in the school. Carefully organized, categorized, and filed into my memory banks. I rattle it off for her and she seems slightly taken aback, as if she didn't expect me to even know of her existence. 

She calls me by my last name, just like all the guys from the team do. So I call her by her last name, fair is fair. I explain to _Scully_ how I know as much as I do. She replies with some small-talk comment…something about how she got her necklace. I do not feel like small talk, so I continue reading my book. 

Scully pulls out a chair and sits down at my table. This is not something I expected. I thought she would take the hint and go back to her lunch. I had figured she had just come over to introduce herself and perhaps flirt with me. Now that I look at her she does not look like the flirtatious type. She has the most stubborn look on her face than I think I've ever seen. Scully is definitely not some little girl to be toyed with, she looks like she won't move until she gets whatever she's looking for.

*****

Mulder finally puts down his book and looks directly at me. He does not look entirely displeased; perhaps he's slightly interested in me…or at least in what I want. He still looks relaxed; lounging back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table. 

How can Mulder be so nonchalant when there are dozens of pairs of eyes staring at us? I can feel them burning my skin, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. It makes me feel uncomfortable; I sit straight-backed in my chair, with my arms firmly crossed over my chest. (Perhaps if I look like nothing is bothering me, it won't.)

I take a deep breath and explain, "You seem like the only one here not going with the flow."

Mulder shrugs and tosses a few sunflower seeds into his mouth.

I try again; "With everyone else…I don't know…it seems as if they were cast into a specific role; like actors in a play. If any of them dares to alter their lines it could mean total chaos. They always must step in the right spot, say the right thing, laugh at the right time… And it's not like this will all end when we get out of high school. It just continues in greater proportion."

Where did that oration come from? It does not seem to faze Mulder who holds out his sunflower seeds. I decline his offer.

"Look," he says, "it's not like I am trying to be a rebel. I just want to find out the truth. And if the price of that is to be an outcast it's fine with me."

Wait a minute. What is he talking about? The truth of what? The truth of what the hot lunch meals really are? The truth of why we always get the most homework on vacations, when we're supposed to be relaxing?

Just then the bell rings. I quickly get up from the table. Mulder reaches over and grabs my wrist. My pulse quickens.

"Meet me tomorrow, okay Scully?"

I nod mutely and hurry after the Giggle Girls.

For the first time in these few weeks the Giggle Girls actually notice me. (Save that one time Christy had a revelation about me being smart.) As I exit the cafeteria they crowd around me; their strongly scented perfumes almost make me gag.

I cannot tell which Giggle Girl is addressing me, they're all speaking at once; making their incoherent babble sound like one run-on sentence. "Dana you were talking with a _senior,_ what did he say, isn't he a fox, what about that alien stuff, Dana does he like you, Dana, Dana is he spooky, he plays basketball, are you going out with him, he's smart, ooh Fox Mulder, what happened, huh, huh Dana!"

I cannot, will not answer their stupid questions. I push past them. The Giggle Girls try to hold on to me. Their painted, multi-colored nails are pulling on my arms.

I finally make it to my locker, my refuge. At this point most of the Giggle Girls give up, putting on pouting faces and stomping away. Soon only two are left, Christy and Jennifer.

Jennifer smiles sweetly and says, "Dana, we've been best friends all year. You can tell me what happened."

Best friends? Sense when? She never even noticed me until now.

"Nothing happened," I insist.

This time Christy takes a turn, "But are you going to sit with him again, Dana?"

I haven't really thought about it, but before I can think the answer is out of my mouth, "Yes."

That one word opens up the floodgates in Christy and Jennifer's minds. They once again escalate into incoherent babble.

I can't take it. I quickly grab my books and sprint to my next class.

*****

I decide to give Scully my full attention. She certainly has made an effort… though the people staring at us do seem to trouble her. A person staring hasn't bothered me for a long time. I just ignore it and make myself comfortable. But Scully is sitting there as stiff as a board, arms crossed defensively. She sure is putting on a nice front, though I can see through it. I guess that's why I am listening, I give her credit for trying.

Scully tells me it seems like I am the only one not 'going with the flow'. In a way she's right, it's not like many high school seniors sit alone during study halls and read books on UFO's. But I have my reasons. I shrug to show her there's some truth to what she is saying.

Scully then goes into a rampage about how students are like actors and they run around like their every move is scripted. She explains that this does not just end when we enter adulthood, it only escalates. 

Wow. That makes two things that I did not expect from this redhead sophomore. I pretend to be unfazed, but in fact I am slightly awed. I offer her sunflower seeds, but she refuses. I try to give her a little insight into why I do what I do, search for the truth. 

Scully's brow furrows, as if she isn't quite sure what I mean. I can't just tell her everything here, now…not when I don't even know her. She has certainly intrigued me, but-

The bell begins to ring and Scully hurriedly gets up from the table, like she's glad for a way out. Has my spookiness scared her off that quickly? I must make one more attempt, even at the risk of getting a you-are-crazy look. I touch her wrist and ask her if she'll join me again, tomorrow. 

Scully looks down at my hand, her blue eyes wide as she calculates her response. She nods and flees, catching up with a bunch of Clowns. Once the Clowns catch sight of her she's engulfed and I can no longer see her in their masses of painted faces.

I pick up my remaining sunflower seeds and head in the opposite direction, to my locker. I haven't gone three feet when Ferris runs up to me. He's the guard on the basket ball team and is always wearing his uniform, just incase anyone forgot he made six points in the last game.

"Hey man! I saw you sitting with that new sophomore, the redhead. She's a hottie, isn't she?" he asks.

I give him a half-smile and walk over to my locker.

"Are you two going out, or something?"

I don't answer; I'm pretending to have a hard time finding my Science book. I'll let him believe whatever he wants.

*****

The next day I slowly walk into the cafeteria. I have been pondering and dreading this moment for the last twenty-four hours. Should I really sit with Mulder again? That certainly seems like what the rest of the school thinks I'm going to do. 

Ever since I told Christy and Jennifer I'd be sitting with him I've heard my name in whispered conversations. People I've never even talked to turn and watch me walk by. It is all quite unnerving. And to top it all off the Giggle Girls have been following me everywhere!

Maybe Mulder won't even be here… Maybe he doesn't really want me to sit with him… Maybe… 

All the thoughts vanish from my head as I turn to look at the table where he had sat. It is empty. Nobody is sitting there. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? I realize I am holding my breath and I slowly release it.

I barely have time to take another breath before I hear my last name being called…only one person has ever called me Scully. I look up and my blue eyes lock onto a tall figure that's approaching, Mulder. 

"C'mon Scully. Let's get out of here," he says.

My stomach manages to turn itself into a tight little ball. Is Mulder asking me out on a date in front of _everyone_? 

"Do you have your lunch money with you?" he asks.

I finally find my tongue, "Yes, but-

Mulder cuts me off, "Good."

He puts a hand on my back and ushers me outside, to the parking lot. I let Mulder lead; my brain is temporarily out of order. I know we can go off campus for lunch but… 

"Sorry about that, Scully," he apologizes. "But I think it's better if we talk away from staring people."

My mind suddenly turns on. I hastily explain, "They don't bother me. It's just…" 

I almost blurt out, 'They all must think we're going on a date!' but I stop myself. 

"We can talk about these," Mulder says while holding up a folder.

I almost bite; he is just trying to make me curious. Could it be homework? No. Why would he ask me, a sophomore, for help? And besides, the Giggle Girls all confirmed that Mulder is smart.

I decide not to ask. I will just wait and see.

*****

All last night I thought about Scully. Not only her clear blue eyes and fiery red hair, but also what I should do about her. There is something about Scully that I can't quite put my finger on—can't explain. Then again, I am a person who searches for the unexplained. What could be better? She is like a puzzle; you know each piece will fit perfectly together, but until it is assembled you can't foresee the end result.

I already asked her to sit with me, that much is for sure. It must mean something that she said yes, but what? 

Thoughts had run through my head, "What should I tell her? I don't know her… To tell her… To explain… No. It isn't safe, yet. Maybe there's still a way…" 

That's when I found it. It was lying on our couch. In my opinion this piece of furniture has proved useless, until now. The couch is hard, old fashioned, and basically unpleasant. When I live on my own I'm going to buy something comfortable and modern, even good enough to sleep on.

But now this lousy excuse for matter has proven invaluable to me. I had nonchalantly sauntered into the living room, not looking for anything imparticular. Then I had seen the mail on the couch. I had picked it up and begun leafing through the pile. 

At first nothing interesting had met my eyes, junk mail, bills, and the local newspaper. I soon came across an envelope, brown and 10x13. It was not addressed to anyone, but I immediately had suspicions of who it was from.

I had jammed it under my arm and carefully set the mail back on the couch. 

Once back in my room I began going through its contents. What I found was something I never expected.

A voice cut through my concentration, it was Mom, "Fox! It's late, dear, go to bed. You have school tomorrow."

I glanced at my clock. It read 10:59 PM. I had reluctantly switched off the light. I pondered, for a moment, whether or not to get out my flashlight. I decided against it. What I needed to do then was think. I can do that better in the dark, anyway.

I flopped down on my bed, my arms under my head, and stared at the ceiling.

I let my mind wander over Scully. I simultaneously pondered what to do with my findings. After a second my mind put the two things together and I knew I needed to talk to Scully about it. It is a way to share part of me with her, but not too much. I want to see how she reacts.

The next day my morning classes fly by, and I let them. My mind isn't there.

I walk into the cafeteria with a determined air about me, similar to the one I saw around Scully yesterday.

I spot her before she sees me. Even though Scully is petit in stature her red hair is a strong contrast to the basic browns and blondes that clog the lunchroom. 

Scully is looking in the direction of the table I sat at the day before. To the mass public her face is unreadable. But to me it screams confusion.

Behind her there are thirty or so Clowns. Scully seems oddly set apart from them, and for that I am grateful. Most of them are looking at the same spot she is, but a few see me. They point and whisper. I would love to run up to Scully and kiss her, just to see all the Clowns faint. For my own reasons I decide not to.

Once I'm in range I call out her name. Scully turns around and looks at me, obviously shocked.

I suggest that we leave, but she seems incoherent. I know she's thinking about how the cafeteria fell silent when we entered, and how it will begin buzzing once we turn our backs.

I ask her if she has her money. Scully suddenly remembers how to talk. But I don't let her finish her sentence, I can tell she is hesitant. Not that I blame her…but she cannot say 'no'.

I walk her outside and apologize for the scene, I know it bothered her.

  
Scully quickly denies that the people effected her. I do not bother disagreeing, I can't contain myself any longer.

I hold up a file with the envelope in it. Scully turns and looks at me, an inquisitive glitter in her blue eyes. Even though she doesn't verbally respond I can read her features, and I'm glad at what I see.

*****

Mulder and I walk across the parking lot. We are both walking independently, yet barely three inches apart. If somebody else sees us they might mistake us for a couple. Or would that be a mistake? What are we, a pair? Friends? Acquaintances? 

'Acquaintances' sounds like too cold of term to describe our newfound relationship…err…friendship. But how can we already be friends, or anything else, when we've know each other less than 36 hours?

Maybe Mulder's mystery folder will shed some light onto the reason we're going out to eat…

We enter JT's Burger Abode. I have seen this place before, when my family and I drove past it. It is a small family owned business; not a threat to McDonalds, but well loved by the local community.

"Nice abode," I mutter while surveying the brown, metal tables and orange, plastic chairs.

Mulder turns to me, (I hadn't meant him to hear) and smiles. (I notice it is quite charming.) He says, "I never heard the words 'abode' and 'burger' in the same sentence before coming here. I recommend the Juicy Jumbo Burger with extra curly fries."

I try hard to fight the smile that's threatening to turn up the corners of my mouth.

We walk up to the counter. I scan the menu posted on the wall. I look hard to find something that has nutritious value and won't expand my small waist. 

I finally decide on Chicken Tenders and fries, a splurge. We take our food and head to an empty table. As I sit on the cold, hard chair I notice there aren't many people here. Good. Less prying eyes.

Mulder places the folder on the table. I stop, with a fry halfway to my mouth. He notices and says, "Oh, maybe I should wait until after-

I take the bait and quickly respond, "No-

I look down. My hand is on top of his, which is resting on the folder. Skin to skin physical contact. His hand is warm and- I pull back, as if burnt.

I catch a glimpse of Mulder's face. Is he surprised or hurt? Did he even notice? I recover and explain, "No. We should get whatever's in there out in the open…"

This time Mulder's hazel eyes glisten, as if what he is about to share is very important.

*****

I bring Scully to JT's Burger Abode. I don't know why, other than it's close by and quiet. I haven't been here for a long time and the decor still looks the same. (I always thought the giant, ceramic burger was a nice touch.) In fact, it was five years ago; when my body went on a growing rampage. I remember that the Juicy Jumbo Burger was one of the few foods that could appease my ever-hungry stomach.

I hear Scully mumble something about 'The Abode' and it makes me smile. (I like a girl with a sense of humor, even a sarcastic one.) I tell her about the Juicy Jumbo, in a weak attempt to make a joke and break the tension between us. Even though she doesn't smile, there is an extra sparkle in her eyes that gives her amusement away. 

We walk up to the counter and order. I get the Juicy Jumbo and Scully orders Chicken Tenders. I never actually see the point to ordering chicken in a fast food restaurant. If you're not going to buy something tastefully unhealthy, then what's the point? I mean, we _are_ still teenagers…I feel I should indulge my taste buds while I still can. 

Once we are seated, I pull out the folder and set it on the table. I notice Scully stops eating to watch, I hadn't realized she was so curious. Just to test her I say, "Oh, maybe I should wait until after-

I barely have the words out of my mouth when Scully exclaims, "No-

Then she abruptly stops speaking. For a moment I wonder why, and then I feel a light pressure on my hand. In her haste to stop me from putting the folder away Scully placed her hand on top of mine. Her fingertips are soft and cool and… That's odd, I never felt…

Scully quickly pulls away, as if shocked. Or maybe she was; I know _I_ was. As if to cover it up, words come tumbling out of her mouth, "No. We should get whatever's in there out in the open…"

I put the feeling in the back of my mind for later contemplation. This is what I've been waiting for. With my index fingers I make a short drum roll on the table, and then open the folder. 

A picture lies in the folder; it is glossy and looks as if it was professionally taken. It is of a large, brick building, no more than five years old. The building has twelve windows visible; it is obviously two stories tall. There are plain, glass front doors that open to a short flight of cement steps. Out front there is a small, sparsely landscaped courtyard. In the midst of the green grass there is a sign.

Scully looks at me and asks, "What is this place, Mulder?"

"This, Scully, is St. Edwards High School, home of the Werewolves," I explain.

Scully knits her eyebrows together. "You're changing schools?"

"No. I was alerted to an incident that occurred there," I tell her, carefully picking and choosing my words.

Scully has now totally abandoned her food. She folds her arms and her eyes study me. "_Alerted_ of an _incident_? Mulder, what are you talking about?"

I pull a tape player out of my leather jacket pocket. "This is a recording of an statement given by an eyewitness."

I press the play button. The voice on the tape player is quiet, a quivering girls voice, "My name is Allison Morgenson. I'm a junior at St. Ed's. This…this happened a week ago on a Friday. I- I was at the football game, you know? It was cool out, it being fall and all. Well, anyway, we were there a little early…Mike and I…the band was just warming up. 

"He- he wanted to go see his friends. He asked me if I wanted to go…I told him no, that I was fine sitting on the stands. About ten minutes went by, the game was about to start. I watched the cheerleaders skip and tumble their way onto the field. 

"I remember they were chanting their names. It almost sounded like one of those annoying children's songs; one played with such repetition that it gets stuck in your head. I can still hear them, 'Candy, Dew, Britty, Sue, Sara, Cloe, Ann Mary'.

"Then, all of a sudden, there was a blood curdling scream. I saw this, this, hairy beast. At first I thought it was just the mascot, some guy in that fuzzy old costume. It had the same furry tail, but…it turned and looked at me! It, it had crazy red eyes. I know how it sounds, but…it wasn't just the mascot, it was a _real_ werewolf! It's eyes locked on me, out of hundreds of people, and it bared its fangs. 

"Everyone was silent in the stands; panic had seized them. They- they just watched as that _thing_ hurdled itself at me. But…but…Mike. He must have been coming back and, and he threw himself in its path. Oh my god! That, that-

Allison's voice breaks, and we can hear her sobbing. Even though it is just a tape recording, her words still effect me. I sneak a look at Scully. Her mouth is hanging open.

The tape is still playing. Allison takes a shaky deep breath and continues, "By the time the paramedics came he…Mike was dead! He saved me… Why did that werewolf…? I never even believed those old scary stores… Now nobody believes _me_! There were so many witnesses, but they won't talk. They're afraid because that monster, it got away. There isn't a trace. 

"The police think it was a wild dog. The only proof otherwise is my statement…nobody will back me, so nobody believes me. I'm just the 'crazy, rambling girlfriend'. I know the truth. I know what I saw. Werewolf."

With a click the tape player shuts off. A silence fills the air between Scully and I like a dense fog. I wait in anticipation of what she will say. 

Finally Scully's voice breaks the silence. It sounds slow and measured, as it she's carefully walking across a swaying rope bridge. "Mulder…" she pauses, still collecting her thoughts. "So you're saying- no, wait, _she_ was talking about an attack of a…a werewolf?"

Well, I've had worse reactions. My voice comes out sounding quick and unorganized, "Not just a werewolf, it is also the St. Edward mascot. There is probably a connection or even a secret cult…"

I don't know if she heard me. Scully's eyes now study her cold Chicken Tenders as her measured voice asks, "A werewolf? Mulder… that's not even a scientifically plau-

"Plausible," I finish her sentence. "You have Ms. Covey for science, don't you? I remember her," I evade Scully's comment for a moment. 

I put on a falsetto voice and continue, "'Mister Mulder, those science fiction books you read have no plausible scientific facts in them.'" I return my voice to normal, "Then I would try to explain to her...Well, I'd end up being blamed for 'wasting valuable class time' and forced to write a five page essay on plausibility."

I finally answer her question as best I can, "It is all quite plausible to me."

I ball up my burger wrapper and get up from the table; if Scully doesn't even care then there's no reason to stay around and chat. Perhaps this _was_ all a mistake; she _is_ just a regular sophomore-

Scully's voice stops me; she utters a simple question, "Why?"

A simple question without a simple answer.

*****

I sit across from Mulder and watch as he dramatically opens the folder. Inside there is a picture. I study the large building for a moment and then ask him about it. Mulder tells me it's a high school, I don't catch the name. My stomach tightens, is he changing schools?

I get up my courage and ask him, hoping he doesn't hear the emotion hidden behind my voice. Mulder doesn't even notice. He tells me no, that he's not. I experience a moment of relief before comprehending the last part of his sentence. _Alerted_ of an _incident_? I immediately become suspicious.

Mulder quickly whips out a tape player; it had been concealed inside his jacket. He presses the play button and I hear a shaky girl's voice. She doesn't sound much older than me. She identifies herself as Allison. 

I listen as the voice launches into an unbelievable tale. At first I don't know what to expect, and then she begins to talk about a werewolf. Normally I would've laughed at such a thing, but the emotion with which Allison is talking captivates me. Could such grief be fabricated? 

Allison's voice breaks and I can hear her sobs. Against my will my heart goes out to the girl... but a werewolf? Certainly something dreadful did happen to her boy friend, Mike. Still, this explanation doesn't seem plausible. I am more inclined to go with the police; a rabid dog seems much more like it. Perhaps she is suffering from a posttraumatic stress disorder. 

The tape player stops. I can feel the tension between us. Mulder's hazel eyes are staring at me…waiting. I know my response will depict everything, so I carefully collect my thoughts. I feel like a circus tightrope walker, with every swaying step I am at risk of falling.

I question him, to make sure I heard her right. I did. Allison _was_ talking about a werewolf. Mulder reminds me that it is also the high school's mascot. He feels that there is some connection…

I won't meet his gaze as I tell him the truth. I know it's not what he wanted to hear, Mulder actually cuts me off before I finish speaking. He tells me a quaint little story about Ms. Covey. He's right, I do have her as a teacher. As a matter of fact I admire her faith in science. I hope someday to have that kind of faith…

Mulder is upset that I don't agree with him. I can tell I just blew it. Blew what? I haven't even had time to find out. There must be some way for me to salvage it. A great sadness fills me as I watch him clear his spot and get up, therefore detaching himself from me.

I take a great risk; one I normally wouldn't take. I ask him, "Why?" 

I don't know what I want for an answer. Or, as a matter of fact, what I mean the question to ask… _Why_ did I go over to see you in the first place? _Why_ do you have to be so interesting and a senior?_ Why_ do I feel an unexplainable attraction…err connection to you? _Why_ did you pick The Abode? _Why_ did you invite me? _Why_ did you bring a girl's story about a werewolf? _Why_ do you want me to believe? _Why_ do you? 

All these questions lay like an open book in front of him. I have no idea which one Mulder will pick, or which one I want him to. 

For an instant I'm afraid that Mulder will just leave. Leave with this question hanging in the air like time; you can't see time, but you can almost feel it. You know it's one of the most important things, but yet it's fleeting. And try as hard as you may, you cannot savor it, because it is gone before you even know what you had.

Mulder sighs deeply. I look up and try to read his features; is it a sigh of defeat? He runs his fingers through his hair and then looks at me. I quickly avert my eyes and pretend to look at something over his shoulder…it is a giant, ceramic hamburger. A smile forms, unbidden, on my lips.

I can't tell if Mulder thought the smile was for him, but I can again sense his gaze studying me. I feel my cheeks burn. To hide it I quickly get up from the table. It is my turn to make the detachment. If he isn't even going to answer my question…

This time his voice stops me. "Hey, Scully! Wait!"

I turn to look at Mulder. I am still upset by his sudden disinterest in me. I know my eyes are a fiery blue; like the color of a 6330° flame. They always look like that when I'm mad.

Mulder explains, "'Why' isn't such an easy question for me to answer. But…" His eyes scrutinize mine; As if trying to see beyond them into my head, to find out what I'm thinking. 

"Tonight," he says with certainty. "We'll meet tonight."

That wasn't exactly a question, it was more of a statement. But my anger quickly dissipates as my heart does a tiny leap inside my chest. Is this it, a date? Was that whole werewolf thing a rouse? 

I manage to keep my face expressionless as I ask, "What will we do tonight?"

Mulder gives a half-smile. "Talk. I'll explain to you about 'why'… How about I pick you up at seven?"

I raise my eyebrows. "You have a car?"

"My parents do."

I let my amusement flow through my voice as I question, "And they won't mind if you use it?"

"They won't know," Mulder states.

I walk over to the trash bin and toss my garbage in. For a second I watch the wood-vinyl flap swing back and forth. Sometimes my heart feels like it's on a hinge. It's never stable, continuously swinging, letting things in and keeping others out. 

I then push open the glass door and walk outside. Mulder is waiting for me. Together, we walk back towards the school. At this time it doesn't matter whether we're friends or not. I take a deep breath of the cool fall air. We are just two people enjoying a new companionship. 

*****

I ponder Scully's question; what exactly does she want to know? There are so many possibilities that my head momentarily reels. Then my mind suddenly pinpoints one particular question. It is, quite possibly, the most difficult one for me to answer, but I am almost certain it is the one.

I sigh deeply, trying to still my brain. I glance at Scully, to see if she's waiting. Her eyes briefly meet mine, and then she looks away. I'm not sure what pleases her, but a smile abruptly illuminates her face. I can't help but gaze at her.

Scully's smile is something I never would have imagined. The barrier that usually guards her features falls away and I am left with a beautiful view of her. There is so much there that I haven't learned… But then it's gone. Snatched away before I even had time to truly admire it.

Scully turns away, therefore hiding her true self from me. I know the next time she looks at me it will be gone, her emotions once again under lock and key. I slowly realize that I haven't yet spoken or responded to her question. By leaving she's giving me a taste of my own medicine.

With my voice I stop her, like she stopped me. She looks mad, and rightly so. I try to explain to her why it's so hard for me. Then I finally make up my mind. I tell her we'll meet tonight. This is such a risk, but… I have an idea…

She asks me what the agenda for the night will be. I slightly hedge the question, telling her we'll 'talk'. I ask Scully if it's okay that I pick her up. She wants to know if I have a car. I picture my dad's car sitting in our driveway. It will have to do, if they don't know I'll be fine.

Scully never actually said yes, but she didn't day no. I guess her lack of answer was her consent. All that is settled, so we go outside. It is a normal autumn day. 

Most people hate fall because of the cloudy days. The way the leaves are all dying, leaving the trees exposed and sick looking. One thing you must remember is that the leaves have to die so the tree can live through winter. It is an end for a beginning, a sacrifice for a life.

Just like what Samantha was supposed to be for me… 

I put the thoughts out of my head as we walk back to school. I am disappointed to see that everyone is still in the cafeteria. The room is quiet as they observe our every movement. I hold the door for Scully and watch as she goes in. She walks erect with her head held high, as if she's impervious to them. She's definitely in Defense Mode. 

We stand, uneasily, in the center isle between the two sides of the lunchroom. Are we supposed to part here? But then what? Do we sit in chairs like good little students, while our peers pulverize us with questions? 

The bell, once again, is our savior. With its mighty ring it sends the Circus scurrying. The spell is broken! They temporarily forget of our existence, only thinking of their next class.

Caught in the throng of people, Scully and I are whisked off in opposite directions. Soon the crowd dissipates, on their way to their own classes. When I'm in sight of my locker Ferris, Josh, Brad, and Dave stop me. (The four of them, plus me, equals the starting lineup for all of our basketball games.) 

Ferris and Josh are the forwards. Ferris is small and quick, good at stealing the ball. He also has an amazingly accurate three-point shot. Josh, on the other hand, is tall and strong. He's always there to rebound the ball and pass it to whomever's open.

Brad is a guard; he shoots proficiently from any point on the court. He and I play well off of each other, and usually are the main scorers. Dave is the center and the tallest member of our team. (He is the only senior who tops my height.)

That, of course, leaves my position, the point guard. Ball handling, shooting, you name it and I'll do it. 

"Hey, what's up guys?" I ask.

"That's what most of they school would like to ask you," says Dave with a laugh. He gives me a pat on the back with his giant hand. 

Brad shakes his head. "Yeah, what's with you and that sophomore chick? Mulder, if you'd drop that paranormal crap you could have the pick of the entire school. You wouldn't have to resort to the new little half-baked girls."

I nearly punched Brad out for that one. He and I have butted heads before, but he had never sunk so low… What got to him? In the back of my head I can hear the comment Coach made last time we went at it, 'Listen, boys, just keep it off the court.'

Josh stands between us. "Come on. Don't do this here. I thought you both agreed to drop _that_ a long time ago."

That.

We both know what he's talking about. I know I dropped _that_ a long time ago. A summer ago, to be exact. But Brad obviously still harbors feelings about her. 

I take a step back to show that I left those fights and arguments behind. Though that still doesn't give him a right to make those kinds of comments about my passions or Scully. I won't forget _that_ easily.

Brad storms off angrily and Josh hurries after him. He always was the mediator between us…

Ferris explains, "Sorry about that, Mulder. Actually we were sorta here to talk about _that_. See Vera kinda went on a rampage when she heard about you going out with the redhead. Man, your girl ain't got a chance when Vera's mad!"

Vera.

Even though I haven't thought of her for the past few months I can still picture her; long, golden hair that curls on the bottom and shins with red highlights in the sun. Her captivating violet eyes that would catch you across a room and hold you there, staring into their depths. Her skin, soft and smooth like porcelain. Slender and beautiful, but not perfect…

Vera.

She was my first steady girlfriend. All the others I had before her dumped me after a week. They all claimed I was crazy and too obsessed with 'weird stuff'. Vera did not. She held my entire attention…and that was what was wrong. We went out for most of junior year.

Vera.

She had left Brad for me. It wasn't my fault, but he sure thought so. Off court we got into fights and on the court we lost all of our games. That's finally when the coach intervened. He told us if we didn't drop it we'd both be off the team. 'Listen, boys, just keep it off the court.'

Vera.

At the end of the school year I had dumped her. It wasn't working. She was devastated and broke down crying, begging me not to do it to her. She had never before been dumped; she was not a girl anyone dumped. 

Vera. 

I can still remember her running mascara and tangled hair. Her nails left pink marks in my arms from clutching onto me. When she finally caught on that I wasn't going to take her back, her sadness and despair turned to anger and hate. 

Brad and I had formed some sort of truce and I had once again devoted myself to finding the truth…

I pull myself out of my memories long enough to hear Dave ask, "So we'll see ya tonight at the game?"

A game, tonight? 

"Remember? The rematch against the Purple Storm team?" says Ferris.

My mind leaps into action. I remember the beginning of this season we were undefeated, the best in the league. Then a tournament and the Purple Storm came along. We not only lost we were pulverized. Our egos were damaged as we watched them triumphantly carry their trophy out of the gym. 

This is one game I can't miss. I'll just have to alter my plans…

"Of course I remember," I say. "How could I forget? See ya there! We're going to win this one!"

"Yeah!" my two teammates cheer as they give each other high fives.

I watch them jog down the hall as I hear the bell ring. It is now my enemy, instead of my savior. The dinging signifies my tardiness. 

I sigh, my mind still spinning wildly, and walk slowly to my locker. Rushing won't help, either way I'm late. But tonight I'll be on time. 

*****

Through the glass school doors I can see the masses of people, the same ones that stared in awed silence as Mulder and I left…together. I know that a sufficient amount of time has passed for everyone to mull it over. Enough time for the entire student body to have gossiped about the most intricate parts of our lives, and have every detail memorized. 

News travels as fast as wildfire…perhaps even as fast as werewolves. I'm sure Mulder and I are the hot topic, main headline, and breaking news all rolled into two.

As if to confirm my suspicion the lunchroom is quiet when we walk in. You could hear a tube of a Giggle Girl's lip gloss fall. I feel my body go rigid to protect myself from their inquisitive looks. I mentally wipe all emotions from my face and put on a stern, professional mask.

Before we have to face the question of 'what do we do now?' the bell rings. Thank God. I quickly walk to my locker, expecting a deja vu scene. Surprisingly enough I'm left alone, even more alone than before I met Mulder. Not only are the Giggle Girls not following me, they are ignoring me altogether. In fact, so is everyone else. I can tell they're making a point of not even looking at me.

I approach my locker and realize that something is terribly wrong. Someone has carved words in the paint! My locker door reads; 'Fox Mulder is bad news. Leave him alone. This is advice and a warning.'

I reel around in shock, diving at the first person I see. I grab Jennifer by the arm and point towards my locker, exclaiming, "What the heck is going on around here? Yesterday and this morning I was the center of attention, everyone had to follow at me…now what? I very well could be invisible! Do you see my locker? Who did this!"

All the people in the hallway momentarily stop to stare at my locker. I guess I was speaking a bit too loudly. Jennifer backs away from me, as if I'm a leper about to give her a deadly disease. 

She looks around to make sure nobody is watching and then whispers, "It was Vera…Mulder's old girlfriend. He dumped her and she still hates him for it. You're the first one he's gone out with since then, so…"

I interrupt, "We're not going out…it wasn't really a date!" 

Christy replies, "Yeah, whatever." She giggles. "Anyway, Vera's like one of the most popular senior girls. If she's mad at you, like, you don't have a chance. She even has all the boys on her side…well, except _Fox_." She giggles. "So, if you don't listen to that message you'll, like, be living a nightmare. Chow!"

The two Giggle Girls skip off, ponytails swaying back and forth. I grown and try to walk back across the hallway. On the way a couple of huge guys 'accidentally' push me into a locker. They begin to snicker, until I grind my heel into the closest one's foot. He yelps in pain and his friend glares at me while a teacher walks by.

I hurry to my next class feeling mad and isolated. I'm still meeting Mulder tonight, Vera or not. 

I stumble out of science class; the smell of smoke still stuck in my nose. Nobody had wanted to be my lab partner. Not even the short little girl with acne, braces, and 2-inch thick glasses. She more readily agreed to be Ms. Covey's assistant than stand by me. 

Who hadn't Vera gotten to? I had wondered as I tried to simultaneously fill a beaker and adjust the Bunsen Burner. When it was too late, I noticed that my notebook was placed too close to the flame. It had caught on fire.

Luckily Ms. Covey had been there to put it out before the alarm went off. She had given me an inquisitive look and I knew what she was thinking about. Why would I, one of the top students in the class, be without a partner? Usually fellow classmates jumped at the chance to work with me, hoping to get an easy A. 

As I flee the room I remember, only too clearly, the embarrassment. I feel the anger burn even hotter inside me. If Vera had not told all of my peers to stay away from me I wouldn't have been stuck trying to do two jobs at once; therefore avoiding that whole predicament. I begin to feel loathing towards this girl I know only by name.

I shake my head to clear it as I notice a figure leaning against the locker next to mine. He is talking to a maintenance worker who appears to be applying a fresh coat of paint to my locker door. 

"…Bad news. Leave him alone. This is advice and a warning,' is what it said," explains the man. He pats the locker. "But now it's good and spiffy, like new."

"Mulder?"

Mulder turns around to face me when he hears my voice. "Hey Scully. I heard about this and I wanted to see how you're holding up."

My anger suddenly flares up, if Mulder's not careful he'll get singed. After all, it is _his_ ex-girlfriend. I walk around him to open my locker, careful not to smudge the paint. I mumble, "I'm fine."

Either Mulder doesn't notice my tone of voice or he's pretending to ignore it. He says, "It's really my fault. I hadn't realized Vera would hold a grudge for so long, or take it out on you."

He waits for a response, but when I don't give him one, he continues, "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to come with me tonight. I assume talking with me is about the last thing you want to do…"

I finally turn to look at him. Mulder has the most pitiful puppy-dog face on. It works it's magic. At once I'm feeling guilty for blaming Vera's actions on him. "Mulder, I think you're the last person in this school that's still talking to me."

Mulder smiles. "Good. So you'll come?"

"Yes."

"Scully, how does a basketball game sound?"

"What?"

"A basketball game. I'm sure you'd look cute waving a couple of pom-poms around!" he exclaims.

What did Mulder just say? I manage to sputter, "But…how can we talk during a game?"

"Well, actually I'll be playing in it. We can talk after!"

"But-

"C'mon Scully. You'll get to see me hot and sweaty!" says Mulder with a sneaky grin.

Just my luck the bell rings before I have time to reply. 

Mulder begins backing away from me. "Meet me here at seven, okay Scully?"

How am I supposed to get back to school? Hotwire my mom's car?

It's already too late to ask. Mulder is gone, jogging away to the senior side of the school. I guess I'll just have to manage on my own. Nothing new…

*****

After my class I hurry to find Scully. On my way I am disturbed by the pieces of conversations I hear: '…You know that new sophomore? Dana Scully? I heard she's a loser…' '…you see that redhead over there? I was told to stay away from her…' '…she's bad news. Vera even said so…' '…yeah, the one who's always with Fox, she's stuck-up. Did you see what Vera did to…' '…uh-huh, Mulder's ex. I know…' '…his new girl? She's a witch…' 

They all anger and worry me. There are too many people gossiping for me to yell at them all. I know who started it and why…Vera, because of me. I had no idea she'd go to this extreme; it sounds like she's manipulated the whole school into hating Scully.

I come up to a locker that everyone points at before walking by. A maintenance worker gets there just before me, and begins applying a fresh coat of paint to the door. It looks like something was carved into the old paint, just like the bathroom stalls. I am afraid it is more of Vera's work…

"What did it say?" I ask the man.

He turns to me and gives a toothy grin. "Well, sonny, it said; 'Fox Mulder is bad news. Leave him alone. This is advice and a warning.'" He pats the locker. "But now it's good and spiffy, like new."

My fear is confirmed. It was her, so this must be…

I turn around when I hear my name being called. It is Scully, this is her locker. After all Vera's done to her I'm surprised she hasn't skipped school. Something else does seem wrong, there is extra anger radiating her eyes that is focused at me.

I smell the faint smell of smoke as Scully walks past me, ignoring my friendly greeting. She's _really_ burning up over this one… By replying with an 'I'm fine' line she brushes off my concern. I pretend not to notice as I continue with my apology. 

I use a form of reverse-psychology by telling Scully that I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to come.

It works. She's coming. 

I now inch into the tender subject of basketball. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to convince her to go, I doubt she's a sports nut. I make a sly comment about Scully waving around pom-poms and it takes her off guard. (Actually, I had been think about that earlier…)

How can we talk during the game? Good question. Not while I'm playing, that's for sure. After…?

I can feel Scully start to back out of it as she begins a 'But…' statement. I cut her off with another quick comment…one that earns me another "angry glare". (I bet she secretly likes the hot and sweaty idea…)

Luckily the bell rings, once I tell her to be here at seven I'm bounding off. Well, that went well? At least she wasn't able to say no…

One of two things could happen: 1) Scully could run home to her parents and demand to go to another school. 2) By some strange form of luck Scully might feel guilty enough to come to the game, even though the entire student body hates her and my ex is about one step from giving her a death threat.

Boy, the odds don't sound good…

By six-thirty I am in the gym warming up. I couldn't stand sitting at home, twiddling my thumbs and waiting…I'm not a patient person. I like things to happen quickly when I want them to. I have everything worked out in my head, the only loose factor is Scully.

Will she come?

My thoughts distract me as I take a shot. The ball bounces off the rim and goes flying, narrowly missing Dave's head.

A few members of the Purple Storm are warming up on the opposite side of the gym. One laughs and elbows his teammate. "That's their star player."

Dave passes the ball back to me. "Whoa, chill Mulder. Just pretend Vera's head is the ball."

I catch the ball and slam it into the ground a couple of times before taking another shot. This time it swishes through the net.

"Great shot!" yells Ferris while he jogs onto the court. "Hey. Did anyone see Brad?"

Josh shoots a lay-up. "No. He was pretty mad when I talked to him this afternoon. One thing's for sure, Coach will have his hide if he doesn't show."

Dave re-bounds the ball. "Actually, I saw him outside. Sorta weird…he was sitting on the hood of his car, just watching everyone who walked in."

I dare to ask, "Was Vera with him?"

Dave looks around for help before replying, "Yeah."

I yell, "Darn it! They're watching to see if Scully comes!"

My teammates gather around.

Josh says, "What are you talking about?"

I angrily explain, "Vera threatened her to stay away from me…"

"You mean that locker thing I heard about is true?" questions Ferris.

"Yes."

Just then Coach walks in. "Come on! Time to get your butts into action! Start a line drill now!"

The rest of the team scrambles to get into place while I look at the clock. 6:53 and no Scully…

I feel a dull pain as the basketball thumps me in the side of the head. I didn't even see it coming.

"Mulder, what are you doing?" screams Coach. "You have a hot date or something? Stop gaping at the clock! Move or your butt will be stuck on the bleachers!"

6:54. No Scully.

I reluctantly begin dribbling the ball.

6:55. No Scully.

I rebound the ball and pass it to Josh.

6:57. No Scully.

I take my turn shooting at the free-throw line.

6:58. No Scully.

The buzzer blares and we clear the court. The team gathers around Coach to hear last minute instructions. I am not really listening to what he is saying.

6:59. No Scully.

I see Brad jog in and get to hear Coach berate him on his tardiness. We're supposed to be there a half-hour before game time. He is still starting… The game will begin in one minute…

I don't have time to look around again. Everyone is putting their hands on top of each other's and yelling, "V, I, C, T, O, R, Y; WE CAN WIN IT IF WE TRY! Go team!"

Usually the warming up and the cheer works it's magic and gets the adrenaline pumping in my veins. Not today, today all I can think is, "Stupid cheer…where is Scully?" 

I run onto the court, doing my act of smiling and giving high-fives, while the crowd screams. Then I see her.

Scully is sitting on our side of the bleachers. She is the only one who's not cheering. She is the only one who is not standing. She's the only one looking depressed and dripping wet. 

The seats directly below, above, and on either side of her are empty. Nobody wants to get too close. Nobody wants to risk everyone turning on them.

All because of me…

*****

I made it. It may be the worst day of my life, but I made it.

When I got home I learned that both of my parents would be gone for the night at a dinner engagement… There went one car. Melissa had to go out to meet her friends…. There went the other car. Bill is in college…no help there.

Then Charles had a novel idea, "Hey, sis, why don't you catch the bus?"

So that's what I did. I caught the bus. But everyone failed to inform me that the closest stop to the school is a half-mile away from it. 

I exited the bus and began my walk. And as if that wasn't bad enough, once I got about ten feet the skies opened up and it began down pouring. 

As I grumbled, splashing through puddles, I wondered if Vera really is a goddess? Maybe she has some supernatural power that is directed at me. No. That is a stupid idea, from a scientific and Catholic point of view. 

Instead I wondered who the Patron Saint of rain is? Perhaps I failed to pray enough to them, so now was my time of punishment…

So here I sit, on the uncomfortable, metal bleacher. I am cold, I am wet, but I am here.

By the time half time comes I am feeling slightly better. My clothes and hair have begun to dry out, that much is an improvement. The slightly depressing fact is that I'm in a screaming crowd and completely alone. Everyone refuses to sit near me.

For the first two quarters I watched Mulder's team pulverize the Purple Storm. After every score Mulder turned and smiled at me. By the tenth basket I was able to smile back. I have to admit, they are good, and so is he. 

The buzzer rings and the two teams jog off to locker rooms, where they will contemplate their mistakes and how to improve. I begin thinking of going to the concession stand and getting something to eat.

Before I have time to move I feel someone sit down next to me. At first I think, "Yeah. Someone has finally stood up to Vera and decided to talk to me."

Then I turn and look. By the size of the girl sitting next to me I deduce she is a senior. She appears like someone from a magazine ad, slender, with long blonde hair. She looks at me with intense purple eyes.

I know I'm in trouble. This must be…

"Vera?" I ask.

Her smile looks more like a grimace. She snarls, "So you recognize me? Well, _Dana, _I thought I told you to stay away from him? For a good student you aren't a very good listener!"

Vera has the nerve to slap me across the face. I grab her arm. "You have no right to do that to me! He's not yours!"

Her mouth practically drips venom as she exclaims; "Now, honey, I was just trying to give you some friendly advice. Let go of me! You don't want to do this here…"

The people around us see and begin chanting, "Cat fight! Cat fight!"

A crowd likes nothing more than free half time entertainment.

Vera takes their hint and grabs my other wrist, trying to push me off the bleacher. Is she crazy? As if my day wasn't bad enough before…

I quickly plant my feet to gain my balance. I push forward, against Vera, forcing her to move back, so I can get away from the edge.

Just then the buzzer blows. The two teams are coming out from the locker rooms. They quickly survey the scene and after a second, boys are bounding towards us.

Vera sees them and lets go of me, so I fall back onto the bleacher. She sits down and begins crying, as if she was the victim.

Mulder and another boy, Brad, get to us first. Mulder picks me up, obviously concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asks while gently touching the pink mark on my cheek.

"I'm fine," I explain for the second time today.

He does not seem convinced, but turns when we hear Vera whimper, "…and she came at me. I was only protecting myself!"

"Hey, wait a minute! That's not true!" I yell.

The gym is silent. Nobody else that saw will speak up for me. I am beginning to understand how Allison feels…

The referee stands up. "I'm sorry miss, but if you started this you'll have to leave."

Mulder stands in front of the ref. "Hey! She said she didn't start it!"

"Don't yell at me, son. Not if you want to keep playing!" 

Mulder's teammates hold him back and begin pulling him away.

I walk over to him on my way out. "It's okay, Mulder. I'll wait outside."

I hurry away. The last words I hear are Brad yelling; "Don't you ever hurt Vera again! You'll pay for it!" 

I let the gym doors slam behind me, as I take a seat on the wet cement. I was wrong; things could get worse…

*****

Yes! Our team's doing great! I see Scully and I'm ready to kill the Purple Storm, she's all the motivation I need. 

By half time we're ahead by thirty points. I actually saw Scully smile back at me. It was one of the few times I've seen happiness radiate from her whole face, an inspiring sight.

Nothing can go wrong…

Coach is beaming as we jog into the locker room. First he addresses me, "Boy, I don't know what happened, but you're on fire!"

Dave smiles, "His hot date finally showed."

Everyone on the team laughs, except Brad who looks about ready to punch someone. 

Ferris exclaims, "Yeah, Mulder can't resist the urge to show off!"

I hit him in the back of the head with my towel. "Very funny."

I think I hear a muffled chanting coming from outside, but I ignore it and listen to Coach give a few pointers.

He finishes and I head out onto the court with the team. Once we get outside the door I can make out what the crowd is yelling, "Cat fight! Cat fight!"

I have a bad gut feeling, which is confirmed when I see the two figures that are going at it, Vera and Scully. When Vera sees us she begins bawling, Scully is laying on her back on a bleacher.

Brad and I are the fastest runners, so we make it there first. I head to Scully and he goes to Vera. I carefully pick her up, wondering how much damage my ex inflicted. I notice a pink mark on her cheek, anger flares within me, how dare Vera hurt my Scully!

"I'm fine," she mumbles. I've heard that before… Scully seems to take pride in her "ability to hide things from me".

I hear Vera whimper that it wasn't her fault. That snake! Scully would never do something like that! My thoughts are correct, I hear her yell at Vera. At least she's strong enough to take my ex on…

Then the referee stands up and orders her to leave. I can't believe it! It's Vera's word against Scully's. The odds are tipped against her because the rest of the school is submitting to the Viper Queen. Popularity can be a deadly weapon when placed in the wrong hands.

I angrily stand up, contesting against this unfair ruling. The ref threatens to throw me out too. I would be happy to leave after getting a good swing at him! The only things stopping me are my teammate's hands on my shoulders, holding me back. 

Scully stops by me on her way out. Even after all of this she still manages to remain calm, "It's okay, Mulder. I'll wait outside."

I try to follow her, to show her I care about more than this game, but my teammates still hold onto me. I vaguely hear them yelling things like, "What were you thinking?" And, "You're crazy, man, going at a ref!"

All I can do is watch Scully leave. Her hair is miraculously all in place; it falls midway down shoulders, the auburn color reflecting off of the bright gymnasium lights. I am amazed that she still walks with her head held high, all her self-pride intact. I think she's the strongest person I've ever met.

Just before Scully's hand touches the door I hear Brad yell, his comment breaking my trance. "Don't you ever hurt Vera again! You'll pay for it!" 

I don't think, my adrenaline kicks in, and I merely rip from my teammates' grasp. I jump onto Brad and get two good swings in, knocking him onto the floor. I dive on top of him, pushing my left arm onto his chest and efficiently pinning him on his back. 

I get in his face and whisper; "Don't you ever say anything like that again. If you hurt-

I don't get a chance to finish. Brad's knee makes contact with my gut, knocking the wind out of me. I can't hold him while I gasp for breath. He takes advantage and punches me in the nose. 

Before Brad can try anything else he's lifted up into the air by Dave, who bellows, "Stop it!" He notices my attempt to stand "Both of you!"

Ferris helps me up, making sure I don't try anything. Dave sets Brad down, saying something to him that I can't hear. Vera runs over to his side and begins cooing over him, gently caressing his bruised face. She sends a glare my way that could freeze a hungry bear in its tracks and send it scurrying for its cave.

Brad did fare worse than I did; a purple and blue circle is beginning to form around his left eye and cheekbone. There's another swollen spot on his chin and part of his lip is split open. 

I notice, for the first time that everybody came down from the stands. They're standing around us, in a huge circle. For once the crowd isn't chanting and the full gym is eerily silent, a sign of worse things about to come.

The old referee pushes his way through the mass of people, until he's standing in front of me. He looks at me like I'm a disobedient little child, even though I'm four inches taller than he is. "Never," he paces, "have I had such a…a humiliating occurrence on my court! 

"I've refereed here the 35 years since I graduated and never have I seen such a spectacle! There have been great wins and grave defeats, but today is certainly a sad day. Today I've seen two teammates fight on their own home court." He turns to me, "You, boy, get out of here! Off of my court! You and your unruly girl…

He doesn't get to finish his speech, because I lunge at him. This time Coach catches me. He roughly pulls me to the far corner of the court, away from listening ears. I hear the ref blow his whistle, trying to get everyone back on the bleachers, so the game can continue. 

"Listen to me, Mulder," says Coach. "I heard what Brad said about to your girl, but you still shouldn't have done that. You _did_ humiliate your teammates and me. The Purple Storm and the rest of the league won't let us live this down. Then you went for the ref… He will want me to bench you for the rest of the season…"

"Fine," I say while walking away. "I've got other stuff to worry about."

I let the gym doors slam behind me.

*****

The air is cool around me, filled with a light mist. It forms droplets of water on my face; they gently trickle down my cheek, like tears. I am not crying. Through all my life's experiences I've learned that it's best to keep emotions inside. It is safer.

I used to cry whenever we moved, because I had to leave all of my friends behind. But then Ahab would take me in his lap and tell me, "Starbuck, I'm proud of you. You're such a smart and practical little girl. At your new school you'll meet other people and grow from it. You have to be strong…you'll understand when you're older."

Eventually I didn't cry anymore. I've grown strong, but perhaps too much. I won't let things bother me. I don't get too close to people, for fear I'll just have to leave them behind. I do end up leaving, whether it's in three months or a year, and there's always a void left inside of me.

This day has practically been too much. It has almost broken me. I almost wish this water were my tears. But it isn't and won't be. If I cry I'll be weak, again. I'll be that small child in my father's arms. I must stay the strong young woman. I must be above it all. I must protect myself; keep my fortress up.

So, the entire school's against me. I have a powerful enemy; one I don't even deserve to have. I am alone in this fight, except, Mulder. What about him? I've only known him for two days, but… He slips through my force field without problem, gets inside of me, to that guarded place. He even stood up to the referee… What does that mean?

I hear the gym door open and turn to look. It's him. I ask, "Mulder? I thought the game was only half over."

"It is," he says, facing me. Blood drips from his nose.

"What happened?" I rush over to him. Pulling Kleenex from my pocket, I hand it over.

Mulder dabs at the blood, smearing it on his skin. He lies, "I had a disagreement with an angry basketball."

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh really?" I take the tissue from his hand and wipe away the rest of the blood. "And does this "angry basketball" have a tall blonde girlfriend?"

Mulder hastily explains, "They're not going out." Then, catching himself, he smiles sheepishly.

"Well, I just hope you deflated him," I say while folding my arms over my chest.

"He'll resemble a bruised fruit for a few days."

"Good." I manage a smile. "So now what?"

"Let's see. We're both outside, in the cold rain, hated by 97% of our school-

"What about the other 3%?" I ask.

"Ferris, Dave, and you are still talking to me. That must count for something."

"In my case, I would have to say 99% of the school. You're my only one."

"You know, Scully, I said this before, but I'm really sorry. If it weren't for me-

I cut him off, "Listen, Mulder, it was my idea to go and meet you. It's not your fault it's Vera's. Besides, you're the one who ended up bleeding."

"Oh this?" Mulder laughs and gingerly touches his nose. "It's not broken. So, do you want to go for a ride?"

I nervously shift my feet. I hadn't thought he was _that_ kind of person. "Mulder…"

He runs his fingers through his hair. "Gee, Scully, I didn't mean that. I meant we could drive over to St. Ed's. Remember? Werewolves?"

I lick my dry lips. "Oh yeah. Sorry…I mean…um…why would we go there?"

Mulder gives an exasperated sigh. "To help Allison find that werewolf that killed her boy friend."

"Shouldn't the police do that? I mean we're just teenagers, not trained professionals…"

"The police think it was just a wild dog. Would you be happier if I didn't refer to it as a werewolf? Maybe it's someone suffering from lycanthropy, the delusion of becoming a wolf. Either way, they would just let the killer go, blaming it on a crazed animal. Do you think that's right?"

I stammer, "Well…"

Mulder put on a puppy-dog face. "Please, Scully? I would rather not go alone, but if I have to…"

I sigh. "Mulder, tell me again, how did you learn of this incident?"

He explains, "This guy, Langly, sent the information to me. Not that it matters-

I am curious. "And how did you meet this, Langly?"

"I met him at this function-

"Function?" I ask.

"One on the paranormal-

"And you were there because?"

Mulder's intense hazel eyes finally meet mine. "Because several years ago my kid sister, Samantha, disappeared without a trace. I was sitting right there, Scully, right next to her in the living room. I was supposed to be watching her, I should have protected her. But I didn't and she's still gone. I don't know what happened to her, I still can't remember… I look for answers anywhere I can, even in the paranormal. What if the only rational explanation is a totally irrational one?"

I am in shock. I stand there, with my mouth hanging open, in the rain. Mulder seems disappointed by my reaction. He begins walking away, towards the parking lot.

I quickly jog after him. Once I catch up I gently place my hand on his shoulder and explain, "Mulder, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Hey, it's okay," Mulder says while wiping at his face. I can't tell if it was a tear or a raindrop. "I just think, maybe if I help someone else, it'll be like helping her."

I nod. Mulder gets into the car and I hop into the passenger side. "I'm coming with you."

*****

I walk outside. My frustration and anger momentarily blind me. I take a deep breath of the cool, mist-filled air. I am relatively calm when I hear Scully; "Mulder? I thought the game was only half over."

She's sitting on the damp cement. Her face is a mixture of emotions. Then Scully sees my injuries. She gives me the look my mother gave when I was small, falling and scraping my knee.

After a split-second Scully is standing next to me, handing over tissue, and demanding to know what happened. I stall by wiping the blood that's running down my face. I try to avoid giving her a real answer. She's already gone through so much because of my past relationships and me; I don't feel like laying out another burden.

But Scully is smarter than that. She tricks me into a half-confession after gently wiping the skin under my nose. (I must have missed a spot.) I can't meet her gaze while she does this. I don't know if I'm too embarrassed or obliged. 

I'm sure she can piece together the rest that I left out. All I can do is smile at her cunning and wry humor.

Our conversation dances around nothingness for a moment. Then I find myself, once again, apologizing to Scully. I know she doesn't hold me responsible, but I still feel guilt about the whole predicament. 

Scully manages to take responsibility and turns her attention back onto me.

I carefully touch my nose. It doesn't seem to be broken. I bet the bone is bruised, causing it to be tender, but not too painful. Hopefully it won't swell.

I suggest we go for a ride and Scully totally misunderstands me. I am a little offended that she would think of that. But… Somebody in her family must watch too many soap operas. 

A red-faced Scully evades my question. I straiten everything out. She pretends to have forgotten everything we talked about yesterday. Her gaze won't come level with mine, I'm sure she's faking it to buy time.

We banter for a moment. Scully plays hard-to-corner. I try my best to convince her we're doing a good thing. Is she afraid? She didn't seem like that type. Bored by the idea? It seemed interesting enough to me. 

Finally I resort to a begging face. It is the same look you see on those TV ads to sponsor a starving child; the same look animals give you through pet store windows. It works like a charm on everyone, from teachers to my mom. For good measure I throw in, "Please, Scully? I would rather not go alone, but if I have to…" 

Scully is softened, but she still interrogates me. Now she wants to know where I got the folder.

I remember the nervous man. He was skinny, had glasses, and long blonde hair. I was sixteen that summer, enjoying the benefits of having drivers' license. I drove all the way to Boston, telling my mom I was going to spend the day at the beach. (I don't usually lie to her, but she would have flipped if she knew the truth.) 

I had stumbled across a convention on the paranormal at a bookstore. At that time I wasn't very interested, just killing time. Then this guy ran up to me, asking if I was 'a Mulder.' (I've been called stranger things.) I told him that I was. He kept looking around, as if he was afraid someone was watching him.

"Paranoid," I had thought while backing away from him. 

"Why did you come here?" he had asked.

I had shrugged. "I dunno; Sci-fi. I used to watch Star Trek."

"But man, it's real," he had said.

"What, Star Trek?" I had laughed.

"No, Mulder. The paranormal, aliens, it is all a cover-up…" He then went on to tell me all kinds of things. 

At first I thought he was crazy. Then I was showed things, proof, and I began to wonder. Ever sense I've been doing research, uncovering the Truth. I know it has to do with Sam, if I could only remember… That day I learned a lot. I never heard from Langly, until I got that envelope. 

I tell Scully, but she questions me further. Without meaning to she causes me to explode, telling her everything. Her reaction is not unlike the others I've gotten; open mouth, your basic shocked expression. I know what comes next, the excuses. "Sorry, Fox, I forgot all about this dentist appointment…" "You see, I have this early curfew. I'll see you later…" "…have to study for this test. Um, maybe I'll call you sometime." 

To avoid it all I begin walking away. I feel disappointed, I had hoped Scully would be a little more open. But a miracle occurs; she follows me. I feel her hand placed lightly on my shoulder, and hear her kind and compassionate words, "Mulder, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

I wipe the moisture off of my face. I explain, "I just think, maybe if I help someone else, it'll be like helping her."

Scully understands.

I get into the car, still unsure of what she is going to do. I feel Scully jump into the car and hear an even better statement; "I'm coming with you."

*****

Mulder starts the car and I pull on my seatbelt, firmly clicking it into place. I ask, "Do you know how to get there?"

"I," he pauses, backing out of the parking space, "haven't exactly been to St. Ed's, but I have an idea-

"Where's the map?"

"Glove compartment."

I pull it open and an avalanche of paper napkins falls out. (Evidence of many rushed fast food meals.) I grumble as I shove them aside. Mulder glances over at me. "Oh, sorry about that."

I am busy sorting through the papers I found, car manuals and finally…eureka! The map! I try in vain to flatten out the wrinkles; I give up. Searching the index I finds St. Edwards High School. Flipping the map over I pinpoint the spot. "Mulder, take a-

I look up long enough to tell we're turning left, into a gas station. "What are you doing?"

Mulder grabs his gym bag from the back seat, where he had thrown it. "I need to change." He gestures at his sweaty basketball uniform.

I look at my watch. "But Mulder it's 7:58! It might take an hour or more to reach this place and…" I let my voice trail off.

"Scully, if you prefer seeing me sweaty, then you might as well say it," says Mulder while grinning.

I narrow my blue eyes and push him out of the car. "Fine. Go change!"

He stands outside my window and mouths, "I'll be right back."

I nod and wait until he's out of sight to check myself in the mirror. My hair is finally dry, naturally curling on the bottom. My eyes look tired and there are lines in my forehead that weren't there before. I sigh and look away from my reflection, never noticing the dark car that quietly pulls up to a pump, less than ten feet away.

Suddenly I feel the car shake, as if someone had just pushed on the roof of the car. My heart rate immediately skyrockets and I try to breathe slowly to calm myself. 

I am usually not a person who gets easily spooked, but today has not been a normal day. It was a terrible afternoon, followed by a disastrous half-time fight. I would not be surprised if an axe murderer jumped out of the shadows to get me, for no apparent reason or fault of mine. 

After a moment I rationalize that it was either the wind or my imagination. (Though there wasn't even a breeze tonight, hence the mist.) I look out the windshield, trying to see the front of the gas station and hopefully Mulder. 

__

"Get a grip, Dana," I think. _"You shouldn't need a guy to come and save you, you're stronger than that."_

So I quietly open the car door and step outside. The first thing I notice is the smell of gas, not something out of character seeing that I'm standing by a pump. Beyond the light cast by the _"Super Gas to Go"_ sign there were shadows and darkness. 

I hear the crinkle of paper; I jump. Quickly, I spin my head around, trying to find the source of the sound. Seated on top of the trunk is Mulder. I sigh.

Walking up to him I see he's already changed. Now he's wearing blue jeans and his leather jacket. Under the jacket he has a tight, navy blue shirt. The word "BOSTON" is written across the front of it. I wonder what trip he went on to get it as a souvenir. 

"What are you doing, Mulder?" I ask while taking a seat next to him on the car.

Instead of immediately answering he holds out a small paper bag. It is small and has spots on it where the greasy butter soaked through. I take a hand full of popcorn and pop a kernel into my mouth. 

While I chew, Mulder points at the moon. "It's a night for werewolves."

"I've seen those old horror films, Mulder, the whole thing about people turning into wolves under full moons is fiction."

"Really?" Hazel eyes blink at me. "I think of it more as fiction based on fact. In the Middle Ages many men were convicted of being werewolves."

I reply, "So? At that time people could be thrown into jail without proof, or killed just because a king didn't like them. Someone could've had excessive hair growth or even suffered from lycanthropy, like you had mentioned before. They would then be accused of being a werewolf and probably put to death. It doesn't mean they really _were_ anything."

"If werewolves _are_ just a myths that people were accused of being, then why was the idea so common in many places? Greece had vrykolaka, Italy claimed to have lupo manero, who fought witches in the underworld. The Philippines had aswang and even Portugal saw Lobisomens. There certainly weren't people from all over the world _calling_ each other up to spread stories of wolf-men," said Mulder.

I look at him for a moment. How did he know so much?

He explains, "I told you, Scully, I've been researching the paranormal."

I remember the study of fungus I had done for my seventh grade science class. "What about the Ergot fungus? During the Middle Ages many people were poor and this fungus was probably in the rye that they ate. It was a strong hallucinogenic which could cause people to hallucinate that they _were _wolves."

"Hallucinate that they were werewolves… That is certainly a clever explanation, Scully. But I'm afraid I've also read about it; it's not accurate. The chemicals in the fungus are _not_ very strong; you would have to ingest so much to get any effect that you would probably die first. The Ergot Fungi is rather poisonous when eaten," says Mulder.

I stare at the moon. I am upset that Mulder barely took notice of my theory. He merely wrote it off without thought… I guess that's what I'm doing with the paranormal. I just shake my head, say it isn't plausible, and don't give the possibility another thought. 

Mulder is saying something, "…but I'm glad you're thinking, Scully. It's good to have someone testing the way I think, sometimes I'm too quick at claiming things are extraterrestrial in nature."

Well, that's his apology. Without another word Mulder is in the car and starting the engine. I guess we're back on our way to St. Ed's.

*****

I turn on the engine and back the car up. It feels right to have Scully riding shotgun, I'm glad she agreed to come. She asks if I know how to get to St. Ed's; it appears she also wants to be navigator. 

We drive for a few blocks, until I realize I'm still in my basketball uniform. After all the sweating I do running up and down the court, I'm sure I'll smell nicely once we reach our destination. (Not a way to make a good impression.)

The first place I see that probably has a bathroom is Super Gas to Go. I park in front of a pump without making a comment to Scully. She catches my drift, but complains about the time.

I make it into a joke and get the response I predicted. A flustered Scully yells at me and practically throws me from the car; her narrowed eyes are a light in the darkness. 

I walk into the gas station, my gym bag slung over my shoulder. A small old man sits like a bird, perched on top of a tiny wooden stool. His beady little eyes stare suspiciously at me. His face is more wrinkled than the shirts that have been balled up in the corner of my closet for the past year. 

"I don't want no funny stuff, boy," he says, his voice quivering with age. He eyes my gym bag.

I explain with as much politeness as I can muster, "Sir, I just want to use your bathroom."

"Sure you do." The man does not believe me. Oh well. His hands are gnarled and covered in age spots, blue veins can be seen under the thin layer of skin. He points towards the back of the store.

I head to the bathroom. My sneakers squeak on the checkered linoleum and yellow lights buzz overhead. I pull open the door marked "Gent's". The sign looks homemade and carved; it hangs horizontally by one rusted nail. 

The door creaks as it opens, as if it is reluctant to do so. I am surprised at how clean and organized the bathroom is. There even is a toothbrush in a holder on the sink. 

I wonder if the man sleeps here, perhaps on a wooden bed, like the stool and the sign. It would have the word "Wintry" carved into the side. (Like the dwarf beds in Snow White.)

I strip off my uniform and unzip my bag. I pull out my jeans and a tee shirt with the word "Boston" on it. I had gotten it the day I met Langly. It was to be my souvenir of a great adventure to a "big city", but turned out to be a reminder of the day I learned about the Truth.

Once I am dressed I walk out of the tiny bathroom and back into the convenience part of the store. Seeing that I'm here, I guess I should buy something. The shelves are neatly staked with junk food, but a delicious smell is what catches my attention. 

Butter, salt, and a popping noise. 

In a flash I'm at the counter. I hadn't even noticed the popcorn machine when I first came in. The little old man waits patiently on his stool, like a spider waiting for his prey to take the final step into the trap. 

"How much is a bag?" I ask.

He smiles, revealing a set of dentures, and says, "Twenty-five cents."

My mouth waters as I walk outside. The night is dark and cool; I am glad I have something warm to share with Scully. 

Out of the corner of my eye I notice a bright, white circle reflecting off of the hood of a dark car. I take no notice of the car, but rather the full moon. This certainly is the night to search for the werewolf.

I take a seat on my car's trunk, still mesmerized by the moon's brilliance. As I sit I go over everything I know about werewolves in my mind. This will certainly be a test, one that I want to be prepared for.

A test comes sooner than I had anticipated. Scully joins me on the trunk. While we munch on popcorn we discus werewolves. I enjoy it and am actually surprised that she knows so much about the Ergot fungus. I tell her how that theory is wrong, but then her beautiful blue eyes will no longer meet mine.

I quickly realize my error and hurry to fix it, "I know I don't agree with the Ergot fungus theory, but I'm glad you're thinking, Scully. It's good to have someone testing the way I think, sometimes I'm too quick at claiming things are extraterrestrial in nature."

The tension between us is still very high. I quickly dismount from the trunk and get back into the car. I shut the door, buckle my seatbelt, and turn the key in the ignition. By that time Scully is already seated next to me, also ready to get on our way.

*****

We ride on the highway; it's poorly lit. The few lights cast an eerie glow onto the road. Mulder drives and I navigate. Most of the time it is too quiet in the car. Being confined to such a small space together, you'd think we would be talking up a storm. But no, communication seems, for the moment, beyond our grasp. 

Mulder is lost in his own world of thought. Whether he is pondering werewolves or thinking about his sister, I can only guess. I wish he would show a bit more interest in me; like asking how I like it here or where I've lived before. Not that I know much about him, but at least I know something.

Finally we turn off the freeway and onto a regular street. I consult the map and instruct Mulder to take a left at the intersection. We pass by a few locally owned restaurants, a bowling alley, and a Motel 8. 

We drive through a residential area and then head outside of town. This school must like to be secluded. After ten minutes we pull up in front of a huge building. A sign is in the middle of a courtyard out front. On the top the words "Saint Edwards High School" are carved into stone. On the bottom it reads "Home of the Werewolves". It strikes me as ironic that a Catholic school would have a creature, usually portrayed as evil, for their mascot.

The picture I saw of this place really doesn't do it justice. It is massive! On one side of the main building there is a football field, where the incident happened. 

Mulder notices me looking around and explains; "You can see why the police wouldn't want to disclose anything that could effect St. Ed's reputation. Such a finding would seriously hurt their business."

I open my mouth to reply, but Mulder is already exiting the car and walking up the cement staircase. By the time I catch up to him he's bending over the front door's lock.

"Mulder, what are you doing?" I ask suspiciously.

I hear a click and the door swings open. Mulder holds it open for me with his right hand, while holding up a lock-pick with his left. "Never leave home without one."

I raise my eyebrows. "This is breaking and entering! We could be thrown in jail!"

Mulder replies calmly, "Don't have a heart attack, Scully. The school is closed, how else do you expect us to get in?"  


I ignore his question. "Why do we have to go inside?"

"So we can get into the office and, hopefully, the student records."

I cross my arms and prompt him, "So…"

"So we can find out where Allison lives. We need to talk to her, maybe she can tell us who she suspects did the murder," says Mulder.

For a moment I experience relief. "You mean you think that a _person_ killed Mike? _Not_ a werewolf?"

"Both. I am beginning to think that a person may have transformed-

Mulder stops speaking when we hear a noise from inside the building. It sounds like glass shattering.

Under my breath I mutter, "So much for _being alone_."

With his hand Mulder motions me to walk in behind him. We take no more than five steps when we see a flashlight beam further down the dark hallway. We flatten ourselves against the wall, but it's too late.

We hear a voice, "Who's there?"

Another voice, "Shhh! It could be cops."

Mulder calls out; "Yeah, I am a cop! Stay where you are!"

A third voice, "Man, that doesn't sound like a cop. He didn't even say, 'Come out with your hands up' or 'Freeze, I'm armed!'"

I breathe a sigh of relief. The voices sound like teenagers.

The beam of light moves towards us, until we can see three guys. The one holding the flashlight shines it in our faces, causing me to squint. 

I am not a good judge of age, but they all look like they're in high school. Their skin is pasty-white, like they don't get out much, and they're skinny. The tallest one is probably five seven, I don't doubt that Mulder or I could take them.

"You don't look like anyone from St. Ed's," exclaims one.

"What are you doing here?" asks another.

"I think I could ask you guys the same thing," replies Mulder.

All three look at each other and then the third says, "Fine. You don't tell, we don't tell."

They exit through the front door; we are left in darkness. I turn to Mulder. "Don't you find that a little strange?"

"Scully, did you expect an outing with me to be normal?" He proceeds to walk down the hallway.

I follow him, wondering if he really knows where he's going. Then I hear a crunch sound, followed by a squish under my shoe. "Mulder?"

"Don't move, Scully," he says while turning on a small flashlight. He picks up a broken piece of glass. 

This must have been what the three boys dropped. On the shard there is the ripped remains of a label. I can read l, f, B, a, and i. The two letters before the "lf" are smudged, as are the letters before and after "ai". 

Mulder then takes a tissue and rubs off the grayish-pink gunk that is stuck to my shoe. He carefully folds the Kleenex and places it into his jacket pocket.

I dare to ask, "What was that?"

"I don't think you want to know."

*****

Scully and I speed down the highway. There is a silence in the car that adds to the darkened effect of the night. I try to ignore the pounding on my ears that is demanding I say something, anything, if only it will effect Scully.

At least three times now I have caught her taking quick glances at me. Not just any glances, judging glances. I know there is a certain look you give a person when you're trying to figure them out or what they're thinking. You narrow your face as you try focusing your entire consciousness onto them. As you look at them you keep your eyes open, never blinking, in hopes of getting a decent mental picture.

Well, the most this usually results in, at least for me, is getting their image burned into my mind. Whenever I want to, and sometimes even when I don't, I will picture their face; though I'll be no closer to figuring out what they're thinking. 

As we get onto the off-ramp Scully looks at me again. No doubt she had also been willing me to speak. I do not actually see her look, but rather feel it. There is a certain intensity you can sometimes feel radiating off of people, as if it were a thing that could be measured. 

This time her look is accompanied by her voice, "Mulder, take a left at the intersection."

I do and we drive through a small town, followed by a residential neighborhood. Past it all we go and I hope Scully can read the map all right. But sure enough, the road leads us right to the school. 

After pulling the car to a stop it is my turn to look over at Scully. Wide-eyed she stares at the colossal school, the exterior made almost entirely out of stone. I'm quite sure she didn't anticipate the size of this parochial edifice.

I'm not sure of the exact price of the tuition, but I'm sure a place like this would charge a pretty penny to allow a young mind to be shaped within their walls. 

Before exiting the car I express this to Scully. Most people do not take kindly to the idea that the Church gains money off of such things. I, on the other hand, have felt at odds with God for quite a while now. I cannot tell her exact reaction, but I'm quite sure my comment ruffled a few of her strictly Catholic feathers. 

I ascend the short flight of stairs and examine the door's lock. It looks simple enough. With a few twists of a pick I have it open. Scully stands a few steps behind me, probably with her hands on her hips.

She is not used to going places that don't have 'Welcome' mats laid out and does not seem comfortable with this idea. I calmly answer her questions, explaining what I plan on doing once inside. I also begin to tell her about the new werewolf theory I am formulating when I hear a crash. 

We're not alone.

I rush inside, motioning with my hand for Scully to stay behind me. I walk as quietly as possible on the tile. Then a flashlight brightens up the hallway. I try to avoid the light, but they already saw us.

I hear two voices. They echo against the walls and I can't be sure if I recognize them. They seem to be just about as worried about being caught as we are. I try to pretend that I am a cop, but they don't buy it. 

They move closer. Are they…? In a moment they say, "Fine. You don't tell, we don't tell," and leave.

Scully is a little confused by the whole meeting. I just shrug it all off and head further down the hallway. I hope this is the direction of the school office.

I don't get very far when I hear a crunch and Scully's voice calling me, "Mulder?"

I instruct her not to move and pull a small flashlight from my jeans' pocket. I pick up a shard of glass. This must have been what they dropped. After reading the letters that remain on the ripped label, I make a few fast hypotheses. 

Just to me sure, I use an extra tissue to rub a sample off of Scully's shoe. I know just where to have it tested…later.

Scully wants to know what it is. I think it's best to keep my opinion to myself. 

I continue the way I was going until I see the sign reading: "Office". You can't get much more obvious than that. And what's even better, when I try the plate-glass door it opens. I shine the small flashlight so the beam lights up every corner of the room.

There are several filing cabinets lines up against the back wall. I smile like I just struck gold. Recalling her name (Allison Morgenson) I search out the 'M's. It takes me only a second to find the drawer, luckily there is only one. This is going a little too easily.

I am right.

I pull on the handle and it won't budge, it's locked. I grumble, hoping they don't take the keys home at night and wondering if they don't, where they put them. I turn around, remembering I didn't come here alone. Scully, where is she?

She's standing in the doorway to the office, leaning against the frame with her arms hugging her sides. In the dark her skin appears whiter…yet she's not pale. She looks small and young. Through the little time I've known her, I've considered Scully my equal. But really she's only a sophomore…which would make her, what, 16?

She speaks, "What, Mulder?" And I know, in her voice, that she is equal and would be indignant if she ever thought I envisioned her as anything less. I don't.

I gesture towards the cabinet; "It's locked. I have to find a key."

In this office there's one imitation-oak desk covered in papers, folders, mail, and pens. On one corner there is a typewriter, on the other there is a phone. I begin pulling open it's small drawers.

Scully walks over to help me. She begins searching the other side of the desk. "Here." She holds up a small gold key.

With another smile I grab in and open the filing cabinet. I leaf through the files until I find Allison's. Behind me Scully shuts all the drawers I left open, careful to make sure everything is in place.

I open the folder; her address and phone number are printed on the first page. While Scully watches, I copy them onto a piece of paper I grabbed off the desk. I shove it into my pocket and replace the file in the cabinet. 

Scully leads the way out of the building, seeming more than eager to leave it behind. As I shut and lock the front door I explain, "Well, Scully, on to Full Moon Avenue."

"Mulder, you've got to be kidding."

*****

Mulder continues walking down the hallway and I follow. This time I tread slowly and carefully on the tile. I squint, trying to see the floor better in the dim light. The last thing I want to do is accidentally step on something twice in one night.

He lets himself into the school office without a backward glance. I decide to wait out here. I would rather not have breaking, entering, and tampering with files all on my permanent record before I'm even seventeen.

Mulder shines the flashlight around before pinpointing a line of filing cabinets. Once he walks up to them I can't see through the shadows. I hear a jostling sound and him muttering something under his breath.

I can barely make out his silhouette; Mulder seems to be staring at me. I can sense his gaze. I suddenly feel exposed, even in the darkness of an empty school building. What is he thinking? Is something wrong? Is that concern in his eyes?

"What, Mulder?" I ask, my voice portraying more emotions than it should.

He replies, "It's locked. I have to find a key."

I hear what sounds like desk drawers being open and shut. I ignore whatever that moment was and walk inside of the office. I too begin looking. I pull open the narrow top one usually used to store pens. I use my slender hands reach to the back. I feel around and pull out a small gold key.

As he takes the key I can see Mulder's smile. I slowly remember why I am here at all. In his haste he left many of the desk drawers wide open. I push them shut, trying to make sure they look the way they normally would. Then I stand back to let him have access to the desk. He cradles a folder in one arm while writing down the information we need with the other. 

I head outside while Mulder puts the folder away. I descend the stairs and take a deep breath of the night air. I am glad to be out of the stuffy little office. I never want to have a job that requires me sitting in a cubicle. I want action, movement. I need to be doing something that I'm knowledgeable at. I must be busy, helpful, and challenged. 

I turn at the sound of Mulder's voice, "Well, Scully, on to Full Moon Avenue."

"Mulder, you've got to be kidding."

"Why?"

I sigh. "I thought we've already been over that whole thing about people turning into werewolves under full moons."

"Scully, it's the address."

I roll my eyes and look up at the moon. "It's not funny…"

"Really!" He holds out the note he scribbled, his face is earnest.

I read: 410 Full Moon Ave. 555-2243

I shrug and give in. "Okay. Fine, Mulder, I believe you."

Sure enough, in five minute's drive we pull up in front of a small house with white shutters. There is a line of round bushes edging a path up to the front door. Through a window I can see that the lights are on.

I turn to Mulder, "Should we have called ahead, or something?"

He can tell I am nervous and looking for a reason to back out. "And what would we tell them, Scully? That I'm a paranoid teenager who has an acute interest in things having to do with the paranormal, such as werewolves, and I dragged you along with me?"

I reply calmly, "That all seems about right, except I came along upon my own free will. I could have stayed at the school and caught a bus home, but I didn't. Do you want to know why?"

"Yes."

"Because-

Just then a porch light flickers on and a tall man stands in the doorway. He calls, "Who's there?"

Mulder quickly gets out of the car and stands to his full height. "I am Fox Mulder and this is my…my sister, Dana."

Sister? I exit the car and go to stand next to Mulder. He catches my eye to make sure I understand what he's doing.

The man seems puzzled. "Are you lost?"

"No. Sir, you see, I am Dana's guardian and I was thinking of sending her to Saint Edwards High School. You have a child that goes there, don't you?" he asks smoothly.

"Well, yes…"

"While we were asking some questions about the school and its background we discovered some unsettling rumors. I was hoping I could speak to your daughter, to hear what she thought."

The man, presumably Mr. Morgenson, stands on the cold stoop in his white undershirt. He still seems rather bemused. "But why, at such a late hour?"

I broke in, "We know, sir, and we're rather sorry about that. It's just, we only got into town a few hours ago and I want to get this all settled as soon as possible. You understand."

"Well…um," the man scratches his head and walks inside. He yells, "Allison!"

Mulder and I walk inside the house and into the living room. The carpeting is shaggy, in a dark brown color. The couch is a duck print in the center of the room, facing a television. Kiddy-corner to it there is a rocking chair and plush, forest-green Lazy-Boy.

We turn to see Allison walk down a narrow staircase. With one hand she clutches to the banister and the other she holds around her stomach. Her skin is pale and her eyes are bloodshot. This poor girl looks just like a grieving widow and I wish I could do something to comfort her. 

She slowly makes her way to us and sits heavily on the couch. Her father has withdrawn from the room. She asks, "Who are you?"

I look to Mulder who nods. I tell her the truth about how we heard her taped testimony and found her file at the school. She listens attentively. When I finish she leans back. "Thank you for your concern, you have certainly traveled a long way to see me. Though, I'm afraid I'm beginning to doubt myself, or what I really saw. You heard what I _had_ thought… I, I just want Mike-" She sniffles. "What else can I tell you?"

Mulder is sitting on the Lazy-Boy and I am on the rocker. He leans forward with his arms resting on his legs. "Tell me about Mike's friends."

"Well, actually, they're upstairs," Allison explains. 

"What?" I look around.

"Yes. They try to come and see me every night after football practice… I guess they feel responsible that they didn't save Mike. I came down without them when I heard Dad yelling for me." She turns towards the stairs, "Hey guys!"

"What?" several voices yell from above our heads.

"Come on down!"

Three teenage guys can be heard barreling down the staircase. Once they're all standing on the level ground, they each match Mulder's height. They seem like human walls of muscle, formidable, even without padding. 

Allison says, "This is Jeremy, Pete, and Shawn."

Mulder stands up; he seems to be trying to make himself as large as possible. He holds out his hand and introduces himself, "Mulder."

They all shake it and turn to check me out. I quickly get up. "Dana."

They all smile broadly and individually reintroduce themselves. The three then begin to ask me things, like where I come from. I enjoy their attention and the fact that Mulder is growing more upset by the moment. Finally he bursts out, "That's enough! I need to ask _you_ some questions."

They all seem startled, but obediently sit down. 

I smile quietly to myself and watch.

*****

Scully doesn't believe me when I tell her that Allison lives on a street named Full Moon. She thinks it's my idea of making a joke. After I show her the note I wrote the address on, she reluctantly concedes. 

The drive doesn't take long. Soon we're in a cozy neighborhood. The houses are small and nestled close together. Allison must have played on this street as a young girl; never suspecting that one-day she would come home being traumatized, her haven no longer bringing her the comfort it usually did. All after going to, what seemed like a harmless school event.

I shut the car off and Scully is immediately looking for a reason to leave. She wants to know if we should have called the Morgenson's first. If this were a different situation, I probably would have laughed. 

I express my feelings to her, "And what would we tell them, Scully? That I'm a paranoid teenager who has an acute interest in things having to do with the paranormal, such as werewolves, and I dragged you along with me?" 

Scully almost shocks me by remaining strikingly calm. She asks me if I want to know why she decided to come with me. I tell her I do. Just my luck, as she begins to explain, a light comes on in front of the house. A man is standing there, cautiously wondering who we are.

I get out of the car and quickly lie to him. I'm afraid if I tell him the truth he will be on the phone to our parents and we'll be in a lot worse shape. So now Scully- Dana- is my 'sister'. 

She must have heard me, because she's at my side in a millisecond. (No doubt wondering what in the world I'm doing.) We briefly make eye contact and through a look I try to convey my thoughts as best I can.

With that clear, I turn back to the puzzled Mr. Morgenson. I cleanly weave a tale of me being Scully's guardian and how we're here researching Saint Edward's. The man is still suspicious. I can practically see him going over it all in his head. 

Not satisfied, Mr. Morgenson asks us why we are here so late at night. Much to my surprise, Scully cuts my response off. She manages to convince him that we don't mean this as an inconvenience, we just want to get it all settled quickly.

A reassured Mr. Morgenson goes inside and calls to his daughter. We follow him into the living room and turn to watch Allison walk down a small flight of stairs. Her eyes are red from hours of crying and she looks awfully fragile…like Mom after-

I push my own thoughts aside as the grieving girl asks who we are. Scully looks at me and I nod. She tells Allison the whole story leading up to now. When the story is finished I listen as the witness expresses her thanks. She is uncertain of what she still believes and wonders what more help she can give.

I look at her intently and ask her about Mike's friends. I am astonished when she tells us they're in this very house. It is certainly a generous act, even if it is done out of guilt, for them to all come and see Allison so often. 

The three guys, approximately one or two years younger than me, come crashing down the stairs. In spite of their age, they are the size of NFL players. I am usually self-confident of my height and strength, but at this moment I almost feel threatened. My feelings turn to annoyance as they take a keen interest in Scully.

I embarrass myself by yelling at them, "That's enough! I need to ask _you_ some questions!" 

Jeremy, Pete, and Shawn scramble to sit down. I mentally count to ten, letting go of the tension in my clenched fists. My glare flickers over to Scully who is sitting in her chair like the Cheshire cat; an almost-smug grin ever so faintly evident in the up-turned corners of her mouth.

"So," I resist the urge to call them 'boys', "what was your relationship with the deceased?"

"You mean Mike?" asks Pete with an over-broad smile directed at Scully.

I bite my tongue and explain, "Yes."

"We were all great buds," says Shawn, sitting back coolly on the couch.

"We feel really bad about what happened," exclaims Jeremy. 

I realize all their responses are to Scully, even though I'm asking the questions. In my best imitation-detective manner I brush it off and ask, "Tell me about that night."

Shawn looks at his friends for confirmation, then begins to relate the story, "There wasn't really anything out of the ordinary. It was your basic fall night, maybe a little cool. The main thing I remember was the moon, it was huge and brighter than the stadium lights!"

"A full moon?" I ask.

"Well, yeah," replies Shawn, looking at me like I am stupid.

"Just making sure," I say while looking over at Scully. She knows what I am thinking and gives me a stern look, as if to tell me 'Don't go there Mulder'. I love silent communication.

She turns away from me and focuses her attention on the confused witness. "Go on, Shawn."

He seems more than eager to comply with Scully's wishes. "Our team, the Werewolves, were all excited for a home game. We were just warming up on our side of the field when Mike came over to say 'Hi'. He wasn't as big on football as we are," Shawn gestures to Jeremy and Pete, "he likes…liked baseball more. Anyway, he was just goofing around with us, joining us for some of the stretches.

"Then it was getting near game time and Mike wanted to get back to Allison. So he left, and less than a minute later we see this…animal come running out of the forest. We thought it was just a dog or fox or something. We didn't pay it any mind. But then screams started coming from further down the field-

"Yeah," Jeremy takes over. "And someone started yelling about someone being attacked. By the time we were down the field whatever it was had taken off." He lowers his voice; "It couldn't have been human…not with what it did to Mike. Man, he was all torn up…blood everywhere. The paramedics rushed him to the hospital, but he was DOA."

We all sit in silence for a moment. Pete decides to speak up, "Nobody is sure what it was. Some people said it was a bear, cause it was up on its hind legs. But there aren't many bears around here. Others agree with the police, that it was just a dog. We weren't there, we can't tell you."

"Do you have any idea who would've wanted to do Mike harm?" I inquire.

The three look at each other and then nod. Shawn exclaims, "'Course we do."

Scully's jaw drops and she asks in disbelief, "What?"

"Why didn't you tell the police?" I demand.

Shawn is a little too nonchalant for my taste as he tells us, "There isn't any proof, but we all know about Crag and Hunter."

"Those are their names?"

"Yep."

"And why do you suspect them?" asks Scully.

"Because Crag has been after Alison since the first day of ninth grade," says Pete.

With a nod Jeremy agrees. "He was always trying to pick a fight with Mike or hit on Allison. And with a guy like Hunter on his side, well it's no surprise he'd get into something like this."

"Something like what?" Scully probes, her eyebrows are knitted together.

"You heard the stories, you tell us," retorts Shawn. I notice their postures have all become defensive.

Without pausing I begin, "I think-

Scully cuts me off, "_We_ think it was very nice to talk to you all, you've been a great help. We should be going now."

She stands, flashes them a perfect smile, and heads to the door. I am left still sitting in the living room. I quickly get up, tell them, "You'll be informed if we find anything," and leave.

Once outside my pace is brisk until I'm standing right in front of Scully. She seems to have been expecting this. Her stance is strong-willed, with her arms crossed for extra defense. 

"What was that?" I demand to know.

"I could ask you the same thing," replies Scully with a slight edge to her voice. I give her a look like I don't know what she means. "Mulder, you saw as well as I did how uptight they got when we tried to get straight answers out of them. Don't you think they had anything to do with this death, that they're just visiting Allison out of guilt?"

I shake my head. "No…well, yes. Yes, I think they are visiting Allison out of guilt, but not guilt over killing Mike. Mike was definitely not killed by a human, or at least, not by a human in his normal form."

"Mulder, what are you saying?" asks Scully. She rolls her eyes, "Not werewolves again…"

"You said it, not me," I reply with a grin. 

There are the sounds of someone, or somethings, moving towards us from behind. They are coming closer, up the driveway, from the street…

*****

Mulder calms down, slightly, as he begins to ask the three how they knew Mike. But this placid state is fleeting. He again begins to tense up once he sees Shawn smiling at me. I'm finding this all quite amusing. The funny thing is, even though they answer every question Mulder throws at them, they direct all their responses to me.

Shawn starts to relate his version of the night Mike died. The one detail he points out is that the moon was huge. Mulder can't let that go, he has to clarify it was a **full** moon. Of course it is. He looks at me, to make sure I know of his 'triumph'. In response, I narrow my eyes at him, to make sure he doesn't voice what we both know he's thinking.

I purposely turn away from Mulder, to tell Shawn to continue. He, Jeremy, and Pete happily explain it all to us. It seems Mike had decided to hang around with the football team for a while before the game started, then he headed back to his girlfriend. They then saw some 'animal' come running out of a forest and heard screams a few seconds later. Once they had gotten down the field the attacker was gone. Mike was dead by the time he reached the hospital. 

Mulder asks them if they know who might have wanted to hurt Mike. I am shocked when Shawn smugly replies, "'Course we do."

Mulder looks about ready to jump out of his seat, as he demands to know why they didn't tell the police. Shawn calmly explains that there isn't any proof, but they suspect a Crag and Hunter. (_Some names_.) 

I ask them why they think these two are behind this horrendous act. They tell us that Crag has always lusted for Allison. They won't quite clarify what part Hunter played, but I guess he was the brain behind the act. In fact, they all seem to suddenly be on guard. I suspect that there is something we're not being informed about.

Mulder wants to tell them his theory, but I quickly cut him off. I think some how Shawn, Pete, and Jeremy are in on this. The last thing we need is Mulder and them to get into a fight in the living room of the victim's girlfriend. I end the meeting and hurry outside. I turn and wait for him to come out after me, no doubt upset. 

I am right. Mulder looks almost angry. If he were one step closer to me I would say he was trying to threaten me with his size. For some reason I know he wouldn't actually do that. 

I explain to Mulder why I so abruptly stopped the meeting. He totally disagrees with me. He thinks that Jeremy, Pete, and Shawn aren't guilty of anything. He still seems to be implying that it was a werewolf. I roll my eyes at his persistence. Mulder just makes it into a joke and grins at me.

I am so glad that Mulder and I are once again friendly, that I don't hear the noises until they're right behind us. I notice him looking over my shoulder and I turn around. Facing us are two guys, probably twenty-year-old seniors. By their unshaven look I don't doubt they've been held back more than once.

"Who are you?" Mulder asks in a defensive tone of voice.

"Us? We ain't anybody, really," replies one with a sly grin. "We was just around and saw there be a few new 'nosies' in town. That's all…"

"Yeah." The other guy's beady eyes stare at me a bit too long. "But I can see we don't have nothing to worry about here. You're just like that Moose and Squirrel cartoon, tryin' to solve a mystery… But we don't have no problems like that 'round here."

I can feel Mulder's body tense beside me. It looks like we left one fight and walked right into another. His voice is low and threatening, "Would you care to repeat that, boys?"

"Sure I would," Beady Eyes replies while rolling up his sleeves.

"No, Crag," says Sly Grin, "leave the lanky one to me."

Upon hearing himself referred to as lanky, Mulder is ready to tackle them both. The stupid punks, I don't doubt he could take them, I'm just concerned that someone would call the police. The last thing I want to do is have to call my parents from a jail cell. With a restraining hand on his solid frame, I caution, "Mulder, it's not worth it. Let's just go."

Mulder's hazel eyes search mine. He stands firmly and asks them, "So you're Crag? That must make you Hunter."

Caught off guard, the two men look at each other. Hunter speaks up, "How'd you know that, man?"

"Lucky guess."

"Are you with the cops, or something?"

Mulder looks at me, gives a secretive smile, and turns back to them. "Do you know anything about werewolves?"

Hunter and Crag are definitely flustered; the glance nervously at us and fidget with their hands. "N-no…why'd you ask?"

"Oh, no reason." Mulder shrugs nonchalantly. "I just think they're…cool. Wouldn't you love to be something like that? Powerful and-

"Shut up!" Crag yells, backing away.

Mulder continues, "I bet someone real smart—not like you guys, someone smarter than that—could even figure out a way to _become_ a werewolf."

"Hey! I'm smart!" exclaims Hunter, but he seems to realize his error. He tries to cover it up, "But…I mean…that's a crazy idea, man!"

With that Hunter and Crag jump into a beat-up car and speed away, leaving Mulder and I in a dark cloud of exhaust.

I can't help but feel, in the very back of my mind, a little nudging, pulling…alerting me to the fact that maybe, just maybe, Mulder _is_ onto something. I stop my thoughts there, and refuse to contemplate the matter any further.

*****

I look over Scully's shoulder and spot two pools of scum walking towards us. One wears a denim jacket; the other sports a dusty leather coat. Their jeans have frayed holes around the knees and their faces are a web of scars. They are definitely not people you bring home to your mother.

Noticing my distraction, Scully turns around and grimaces in disgust at what she sees. I decide to make first contact and receive two coy remarks in return. I dislike the way one, whose eyes look like tiny black marbles, is interested in Scully. He takes the liberty of comparing us to a cartoon.

I might have backed down earlier, upon Scully's request, but these punks are pushing my tolerance level a bit too much. Just as I suspected, they take my bait and give me a bit more information than I bargained for. It appears we have attracted the attention of the infamous Hunter and Crag.

I am ready to jump into action, but suddenly I feel Scully place a hand on me. I look down at her, certainly she can't think I can't manage a couple… A thought passes between us, and I know she's right. I relent and take a different kind of action, one that involves using the knowledge they don't know I have, to trap them.

In a matter of minutes I have them both sweating. I enjoy seeing Hunter implicate himself as being smart enough to turn a human into a werewolf. In a whirl of dust and fumes the two speed away.

"Well, Scully, it seems we have confirmed our two suspects," I explain.

"Yeah…" Scully agrees, seeming very distracted.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Oh nothing, Mulder. Sorry, I'm listening." 

I wait, hoping for a better explanation, but I'm not going to get one. I continue, "But we need evidence. I suggest we head back to Edward's to look at the scene of the crime."

She is now paying more attention. "Didn't this crime occur days ago? Won't all the evidence be gone, or, hopefully, gathered up by the police?"

"We'll just have to see for ourselves." I head back to the car, fairly certain that Scully will follow.

The football field is 120 yards of muddy grass. I believe Allison had mentioned that it was misty on the night of the attack, which would account for the way shoes had ripped out chunks of the spray-painted earth. I jog to the end zone, where yellow police tape is tied to wooden poles that were driven into the ground around the crime scene. 

I hold an invisible football in my hands and yell to Scully, "Go long!" She ignores me as I proceed to throw a perfect pass. "Come on, Scully, don't be afraid to have a little fun."

Her look makes me feel like an ignorant child. I think the night air is beginning to affect her brain. "Mulder, must I remind you that this is a crime scene? A boy died here."

Of course, she is right.

I walk past the yellow tape, retracing the steps the killer must have taken. Scully stops behind me, analyzing the blood stained ground. The policemen have been very careless in their search. If there were any footprints left in the grass, they have long since been covered up by prints from work boots and sneakers. 

A small silver object reflects the light and catches my attention. It is a regular safety pin, but it's open, with a plant clipping speared on its sharp end. I reach for it, saying, "Hey, Scully, look at this."

She is already coming over. Scully yells, "Mulder, wait!"

"What?" My hand stops midway through the air.

She leans over my shoulder. "Do those green leaves have pale undersides?"

"Yeah…"

"And the flower is a deep blue?"

"What's your point, Scully?" I ask impatiently.

"Don't touch it, Mulder." She explains, "That's Wolfbane, a highly poisonous herb."

I give her a quizzical look, causing her to respond, "We did a unit on plants in one of my elementary schools."

I slowly pick the herb up in a tissue and stand. I pat Scully on the shoulder. "A regular botanist." 

Scully rolls her eyes. "I know what you're thinking, Mulder, but just because it's called _Wolf_bane doesn't mean it has anything to do with werewolves…"

"Actually, I was thinking you might need one of these," I tell her, holding out a small key chain. 

"What's this for?" She takes it in the palm of her hand.

"I thought you might find it handy, it can be pretty dark in there."

"In where, Mulder? What do you want me to do? Just spit it out." Scully's arms are crossed, a bad sign.

Seeing that her patients are almost completely gone, I explain, "In the forest." I gesture towards the trees to our right. "That's where the werewolf…or wild dog…was seen running from. So there is a good chance that some valuable clue is in there-

"And I'm the one to find it?" she asks with a sigh. Scully pushes the button on the miniature flashlight. It shines a beam about the size of a half-dollar. She is sarcastic; "This is _really_ going to help me, Mulder."

It must be past Scully's bedtime.

"Good." I grin, not allowing myself to be bothered by her taunting humor. The truth is so close I can almost taste it. 

"And what are _you_ going to be doing, Mulder?" 

I must be cautious in my response. "Oh, just getting some things checked out…"

I sprint down the field before Scully has a chance to respond.

*****

Mulder's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. It seems he concludes that Hunter and Crag are the murderers, with which I must agree. Anyone with half a wit could tell that pair was not to be trusted. But I do have a hard time agreeing with Mulder's next proposition. He is convinced that with evidence, which we'll gather at the scene of the crime, the police will believe some wild tale of teenagers turning into werewolves.

There's no doubt; I'm going with him. His ideas may be crazy, but Mulder hasn't been wrong—yet—not to mention the fact that I don't have any other mode of transportation. Though the prospect of going to place where someone died does make my stomach turn in on itself. I can only hope that Mulder won't have to witness my face changing unsightly shades of green.

I hope this is worth it. We are on the football field. The soil is wet and the muck sticks to the bottom of my sneakers, making a squishing noise with every step I take. There is also the fact that the minute we stepped into this expanse of grass Mulder suddenly transformed into a little boy. 

I look up when I hear Mulder yelling something. _My god_, he actually wants to have me play catch with an imaginary football. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming. Can't he tell this is neither the time nor the place? When I do speak, I rebuke him. My voice comes out in the tones I usually use when watching Charlie. 

I do admit, a small part of me wants to give up and just roll in the mud, but I won't.

That same part of me cringes when Mulder's face falls and he turns around to continue walking. I stop at the sight of the blood stained grass; What an awful thing to die so young…never knowing what could've happened with your life.

I hear Mulder's voice beckoning me. He is reaching for a plant that's lying on the ground. I recognize the outline of it from a class I took a long time ago…I remember I paid the most attention to the unit on poisonous herbs… I stop Mulder just in time. What if he had touched it and-

No, I won't think of the possibilities.

I can't believe that he makes this near brush with death into a joke. Not many people can do that and I'm glad to be in the company of one of them. 

I am caught off guard when he hands me a small key chain instead of explaining a theory about the Wolfbane. I quickly come to my senses when I see the look on his face…it's the same look he had before asking me to the basketball game and here. 

He finally tells me. I get the prize of being Miss Clue-Huntress, armed only with a pocketsized flashlight. Oh well. I can handle myself. I just want to know where he's going to be while I fight the forest. 

But it looks like I'm not going to get an answer…

"Chicken," I mutter under my breath, watching Mulder sprint from view.

I stomp through the grass and into the grove of trees that edges the actual forest. The trees are grown together, into a dense mesh of sticks that rip at my clothes and threaten to scratch my face. I hold my hands out in front of me to guide my way. The flashlight in my hand is little help, but in truth I'm glad to hold some reminder of Mulder, to keep me trekking forward. 

I can't tell how far I've gone before my instincts begin to kick in. My sense of direction is fairly decent and my ears prick up with every noise of a snapping twig. I whirl in the direction of a rustling bush and attempt to control my fears. How safe am I, unarmed in a dark forest, when it must be around midnight, by now?

And what will happen to me once I go home? Will Mom and Dad have returned home to find their youngest daughter not asleep in her bed? How can I tell them Mulder and I didn't do anything that was wrong…maybe crazy, but not wrong… Though we did break into the school, (rather _Mulder_ did), but I wouldn't lay the blame on him. I went along on my own free will and the responsibility is mine.

I'm still not sure what I'm looking for, but I see a cave about thirty feet in front of me. I just entered a clearing which leaves me feeling exposed. There's another sharp sound behind me, although there've been too many noises for me to turn around and shine the tiny beam of light in each direction.

Suddenly I feel a searing pain in the back of my head. I cry out as I hit the ground; my brain growing fuzzy…I scarcely realize that I was hit with something hard and solid. I feel someone's hot breath on the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. 

As I fight the blackness that threatens to consume my senses, I try to command my body to roll to the side…but my limbs refuse to move to strike my assailant. I am vaguely aware of the fact that something has latched onto my pant leg and is dragging me along that damp ground. I'm pulled over pebbles, leaves, and dirt towards the cave I had spotted. 

I get my eyes to open as I am laid against a cold, stony floor. Though my mind is foggy, I have the sense to hope I don't have a concussion or will come to any further harm. 

The attacker is in front of me. The creature steps from the shadows and I squint, unable to believe my eyes. The beast is neither a wolf, though I can hear it growling, or a man, though it is the size of one. NO—no—it can't really be…

The beast stares wildly at me; his eyes alight with madness. His voice echoes and fills the cave as he yells; "Do you see these walls?"

Terrified, I back away from him; clutching myself, as if in hopes that if I hold on tight enough I'll be okay.

He is angered by my lack of response. He once again spits out words; I can see the saliva filling his mouth, "These walls will be the last thing you see when you die!"

*****

On my way to the parking lot I spot a phone booth. The phone must be there so that the students can make calls without putting it on the school's tab. I race over to it and jam change into the slot. As I listen to the phone ring I kick the Plexiglas walls. I know I had run into them at St. Edwards earlier this evening. I have no doubt they went back in after we left.

Sure enough, after thirteen rings the phone is answered. The voice on the line speaks with a hushed tone; "Hello?"

"Langly?" I ask impatiently.

Someone else gets on the phone, whispering, "Who's this?"

"Come on guys, it's me."

"Jeez, Mulder, you sure gave us a good scare earlier," says Frohike. "And who was that sweet chick you had with you?"

"Down boy, Scully is a lot more than a pretty face."

"Scully? Hey, she could be a back up singer for a rock band with a name like that."

"Whatever, Langly, put Byers on. I need to talk to him about that container he dropped," I explain, now certain that the three stooges hold a key to this murder.

I hear a click and then, "What can we do for you, Mulder?"

"Byers, about that glass jar you had…"

"Oh, that was from the Science Lab. It held a specimen of wolf brain," says Byers. "We had wanted to check to see if a piece of it had been removed, but now we can't."

"Removed? Why?"

"To eat," replies Frohike. "Wolf brain is a delicacy for the connoisseurs who hope to transform themselves into werewolves."

"Sounds pretty freaky to me," remarks Langly. "A couple of guys hanging around, chanting, and munchin' on a brain. Gross, man."

My thoughts fly at high speed. "But what if someone didn't eat a wolf brain? Are there other things he'd use to turn into a werewolf? I mean, if you guys didn't think of it, you'd probably get poisoned eating something preserved in formaldehyde." 

"Right you are," Frohike answers. "That's why after you left we came back and let ourselves into the library. We have been able to find some pretty interesting books on werewolves and cults."

"To become a werewolf one may find the paw print of a wolf, such as in the mud or snow, and drink from it," reads Byers. 

"I doubt there're many wolves-

Langly cuts in, "There must be some _seriously_ strange people writing this stuff. It says you could eat roasted wolf's flesh or taste human skin to become a werewolf. Man, that's just wrong!" 

I interrupt, "One question, guys, why did you send me the information if you were researching this on your own?"

Frohike explains, "We have friends here who work in the AV room and on the newspaper. When we heard the story we thought you'd be more into it, seeing how you like the paranormal and all. Then, when we heard you were in town we couldn't resist having a look around for ourselves."

"How'd you know-

"We have many eyes and ears, my friend."

Byers continues reading, "Those wishing to obtain the "were-power" may wear clothing made from wolf fur or don the plant of Wolfbane."

"Did you say Wolfbane?"

"Yeah," Frohike confirms, "the picture is of a small plant that is-

Blood begins to pound in my ears. "Listen, I know what it looks like. I've got to go guys. I might have made a mistake."

"What's going on, Mulder? We can-

I cut him off, jamming the receiver down. Adrenaline pumps through my veins. Why didn't I think of it before? The plant must have been dropped recently; otherwise it would've turned brown by now! That means that-

I hear a sound, a shriek…one that I recognize. It's…

I scramble to the car and grab my father's gun that I stowed away under the backseat. I jump out of the car and sprint in the direction of the scream. Even if I never heard her shriek before, I know from whose throat it comes. The sound and thought freeze my blood as I approach.

I stop just on the outskirts of the forest where I sent her earlier. Why did I do that? I was foolish to leave her alone right next to a murder site! Everyone knows that killers come back...

"Scully!" I yell. 

A werewolf appears out of the shadows and turns to face me. He has her in his claws. At first she fights him with all her might. Then he digs his claws deep into her arm. Scully crumples to the ground, her face contorting to keep from crying out. She's in anguish.

I'm holding the gun out in front of me. I hadn't even noticed I already pulled down the hammer, my finger tightening on the trigger. 

"Stop!" I shout with authority.

The werewolf bears its teeth. He is standing erect, yielding little resemblance to the young man we met earlier. The claws that injured Scully are sharp, four-inch-long weapons that protrude from large paws. This beast is near my height of six feet, glassy eyes glowing with a crazy rage and shaggy fur coated with mud.

If I shoot a murderer will it be murder or self-defense? I'm not even supposed to have this gun… My dad will… Jail… Killer… My fault… 

But Scully…

A shot rings out. It barely registers in my brain that it was fired from the gun in my hand. I hear a siren in the distance. They couldn't have heard the gunfire this quickly. Did I kill…?

Scully

She's lying on the ground. I drop the gun. I feel a sickening feeling, as the pit of my stomach seems to drop out. I didn't miss, did I?

The thoughts only take a few seconds to flash through my head. Then I am at her side. I gently lift her head onto my lap. There is blood… She is breathing…

I slowly realize that the blood is from Scully's arm, she must have lost consciousness from shock. She is not shot. She will be all right. Relief flows through my body as I run my fingers through her auburn hair.

I have sense enough to look around. The werewolf is gone, transformed back into a young man. Crag lies naked on the ground. He too is not shot. His only wounds seem to be ones inflicted by Scully. 

A beam of light from the rising sun hits something shiny in the grass. This time I am careful when extracting it from the ground. It is the bullet from my father's gun. I slip it into my pocket.

In the next few minutes, as the sirens grow closer, my mind puts everything together: A split-second before I fired the gun, the full moon set below the horizon. This caused the werewolf to turn back into Crag. He saw me pull the trigger, fainted in fear, and dropped Scully onto the ground.

I blink and realize there are close to twenty people around me. Two police officers have pulled me to my feet and are asking me questions I'm not hearing. Other men in blue are speaking to a few middle aged people about thirty feet away from me. In the way that they're dressed I guess these are school officials. I recognize Mr. Morgenson standing with Allison who is crying as she watches Crag, covered in a blanket, be cuffed.

Justice will be served for her boyfriend's death.

Scully, who is still unconscious, is eased into an ambulance on a stretcher. I dash over just as the doors are being closed. A female paramedic sees me and holds it open. She asks, "That man over there said this girl is named Dana Mulder and you are her brother, Fox. Is that right?"

Dana _Mulder_? I find my tongue, "Actually her last name is Scully. I am her…her…"

"I didn't think you looked related," says the woman with a laugh. "Listen, Romeo, boyfriends can't ride in here, only immediate family can. So why don't you just meet us at the hospital, okay?"

She shuts the door before I have time to respond. 

Boyfriend? I guess that was a reasonable thing for her to assume. But what would I call my relationship with a girl I have known for such a short time, but already have such a strong bond with? This mystery will be harder to solve than any involving a werewolf.

*****

I open my eyes; my vision is blurry, but it slowly begins to clear. I am on my back, lying in a bed, and covered with a starchy sheet. The walls are white, matching the white tiled floor. I take a deep breath of the sterile air. In the distance there are beeping noises and people talking to each other in dour tones.

Why am I in a hospital?

My finger instinctively reaches over and brushes the tender, five-inch cut on my left arm. It has been stitched shut. That must be the wound that the-the-the…

Memories suddenly flood through my head: I remember being dragged from the cave by the beast. Over and over he viciously muttered, "Hunter _was_ wrong, I _have_ power, I _am_ power, I _am_ werewolf, Allison should be _mine_, this _should_ work, Hunter _was_ wrong, I _have_ power, I _am_ power, I _am_ werewolf…" 

That was when I saw the ravaged body of Hunter. There was no doubt he was dead; skin ripped to shreds and blood covering the ground where he was thrown. I couldn't control the scream that tore itself from my throat. I was not going to die that night.

Then we were outside of the forest. I began to flail around; biting, clawing, and kicking for all I was worth. I saw Mulder running towards us, something silver in his hand. But pain abruptly overtook my senses. My arm felt like it was on fire. 

The last thing I knew I was being dropped…thereupon all went black.

A cheery nurse wearing a shirt covered in smiley faces walks in. Her eyes twinkle when she sees I'm awake. "Good morning, Miss Scully, it's good to see you're awake."

"Morning?" I ask, licking my dry lips. 

"Yes, dear," replies the woman while opening the white curtains. The white room filled with light, causing me to blink.

I take a sip of the cold water she offers me. "Where's Mulder?"

"Is that the young man that was pacing outside of your room for the past few hours? We practically had to post a guard to keep him out. Finally three of his friends showed up and managed to keep him occupied for a while with a bag of bird see," she explains with a smile.

I laugh when she calls Mulder's favorite snack birdseed. "May I see him?"

"Of course, dear," she pats my head, "but first two members of your family are here."

Oh no. My stomach churns. What will Mom and Dad say finding me here?

I suck in my breath as I watch the nurse hold the door open for my guests. Someone pokes her head in, then smiles at me.

"Missy!" I yell, letting out a sigh of relief.

She runs over and gives me a huge hug. "Gee, Danes, I heard of a girl doing anything for a boy, but you're pushing the limit." Missy laughs.

"Oh my gosh, Missy, I'm so glad it's you! I thought Mom and Dad were here. They would be crazy!" I say.

"Crazy, a lot like Fox." Missy explains, "You should've seen him; he practically tore down the door! It took five men to pull him away! I can't believe my little sister already has seniors wrapped around her finger."

She agrees, "But you're lucky, Mom and Dad got stuck at the McClullens due to the thunderstorm. I managed to convince them to stay and visit a little longer."

"Thanks, Missy!" 

"Don't thank me too much," she gestures towards the door, "someone else had to take the first flight over when he heard the news."

Bill walks in looking sullen. "What were you thinking, Dana, going alone with a senior to what? Hunt for bad guys? And then he goes off and lets you get attacked!"

I clench my teeth. "Bill, it's a little more complicated than that. Don't worry, I can take care of myself."

He points to my injury. "What about that? Dana, I don't want you around that guy getting hurt! He has all these crazy ideas, like that the kid they arrested is a dog or something."

"Not a dog, Bill, a werewolf," I reply calmly. "I will also have you know I went along on my own free will."

Just then Mulder pokes his head in my room. He asks with a smile, "Well, Scully, did you see it?"

Bill's eyes bulge. "Scully? Why is he calling you Scully? Doesn't he even know how to properly talk-

"Come on, Bill," says Melissa, pulling her brother. "Let's leave them alone." She winks at Scully.

"I don't think that's a wise-

The door being shut cuts off Bill's comments.

I sigh. "Excuse my brother. He can be a little…protective."

"I can tell," Mulder laughs. "But you're avoiding the question. Did you see it?"

I shake my head. "Oh, Mulder, it was so dark…I was semiconscious…how could I tell what was attacking me?"

Mulder's face falls. "Scully, you can't tell me you didn't see-

I cut him off, "Mulder, I'm not sure what I saw was due to the blow the my head…even _if_ it was something, I can't easily explain it." 

He gently brushes a stand of hair off of my face. "Well, the important thing is that you're alright."

I gaze into his dark brown eyes; they seem to go on forever; like the endless depths to the core of the earth. I notice the bruise on his face, my bruise, he got it for me.

"Mulder…"

"Scully…"

Like a romantic movie, or a dream, our faces inch closer. Our lips are about to meet-

*****

I take deep breaths as I slam my hands on the armrests of a chair in the waiting room of the hospital. A few minutes ago I managed to charm one of the nurses into telling me where Scully's room is. But when I made it to the door three doctors pulled me away, explaining that she needs to rest and visiting hours won't be for another hour.

I get up to again walk by her room when I see Langly, Byers, and Frohike walk through the glass sliding doors. I can see their new VW van parked outside in the fire lane. Byers walks over to the nurses station and speaks quietly to a woman. Frohike walks towards me carrying a huge tulip and Langly lugs a five-pound bag of sunflower seeds.

"Hey, Mulder. We thought you might be hungry," says Langly dropping the bag next to my feet and wiping sweat from his forehead. 

"Thanks, guys," I reply, cracking a half-smile.

"How's the lovely Miss Scully?" asks Frohike, setting the gigantic flower onto of a magazine covered coffee table.

"Asleep," answers Byers, walking towards us. "Candice, the head nurse, says visiting hours will start at eight o'clock."

"Where'd you get a Tulip of that size in the middle of autumn?" I touch a petal to make sure it's real.

"We were just checking into that. There's a greenhouse that seems to be growing genetic-

Langly elbows Frohike. Byers interjects, "We'll fill you in when we're in a more secure location."

I nod, sit back down, and rip open the bag. I pop a seed into my mouth as a watch two redheaded figures walk in. The young woman fingers a crystal necklace and tells the agitated guy next to her to "control his negative energy." 

He ignores her and pounds a fist into the counter. He demands, "Listen, I understand we are early, but we've both come a long way and I just want to see my sister!"

The nurse looks nervous and begins to motion to a security guard. Going on a hunch I stand up and walk over to them. I ask, "Are you the Scully's?"

The man looks up, his eyes flashing. "Who are you?"

"I'm Fox Mulder, I…I was with your sister?" They look too young to be Scully's parents.

The girl holds her hand out to me. "I'm Melissa and this is Bill. How's Dana doing?"

I shake her hand and Bill yells, "Hey, you look older than a sophomore."

"Um…I'm a senior." I straighten to my full height. I doubt this guy is itching to be friendly to anyone hanging around with his sister, especially seeing that I'm older than her.

Bill snorts. "What are you going messing around with Dana?"

"We weren't messing around," I begin to explain. 

"Then why weren't you there to protect her from the psycho that attacked her?" he accuses me.

"I didn't realize the werewolf was there-

"Werewolf? What are you talking about? I thought they arrested a boy." Bill turns to Melissa. "Didn't they arrest a boy?"

Melissa sighs. "Maybe we should listen to Fox's side of the story."

Bill throws his hands up the air. "You can't _possibly_ believe a werewolf attacked our sister!"

Melissa meets his eyes. "There are many evil spirits in this world, Bill, and-

He turns his back on her and lunges towards me. This guy is shorter than I am, but he catches me off guard. Bill grabs my shirt. "Don't you ever hurt Dana again, if you do I'll-

"Bill!" Melissa yells. "Stop it!"

She grabs him by the shoulder and he lets go of me. I am ready to jump back at him, my muscles are tense, but Byers, Frohike, and Langly are at my sides. Melissa speaks up, "Dana wouldn't want any fighting. No stop it, you two."

Bill storms off and I shake the restraining hands off of my arms. She tells me, "I'm sorry about that. Now, please, I'd like to hear what really happened."

The eyes of Scully's sister look sincere and we both sit down. I tell her everything. Melissa nods and gasps at the appropriate times, she does not interrupt. When I finish she stands up and puts a hand on my shoulder. "My sister is lucky to have a friend like you."

She then walks away in the direction of Scully's room. I glance up at the clock. It reads 8:04 AM. I sit back, planning to give Melissa…and Bill…a few moments alone with their sister.

When I hear Bill's voice echo down the hall I hurry to Scully's door. I don't want her in trouble on my account. I hear the mention of a werewolf and poke my head in, asking if she saw what I saw. 

Melissa manages to pull her peeved brother out the door and Scully apologizes for him. It's not her fault. She avoids answering me, but finally explains that she's not sure she saw anything. At first I'm annoyed. How could she have missed it when she was in the beast's clutches? Then I realize the important thing is that she's all right. 

I look into her beautiful blue eyes, the crystal clear color of the ocean on a sunny day. A strand of her auburn hair falls onto her face and I tuck it back behind her ear.

"Scully…"

"Mulder…"

It is a moment as perfect as a dream. We both lean towards each other, our lips are about to touch-*****

In her apartment an adult Scully jolts upright in her bed. With a slender finger she carefully touches her mouth, as if to recall a faint memory of lips brushing.

Then, as everything slowly registers in her brain, she reaches for her wrist and the back of her head… Places where bruises and cuts would be.

"It didn't even happen in a dream…" she mutters, sighing.

After pushing the comforter aside Scully groggily stumbles to her bathroom. She turns the faucet on 'cold' and splashes her face. After drying it with a towel she gazes, almost longingly, into the mirror. She seems to be having a mental argument with her reflection.

Mind made up; she shuffles back to her bedroom. She's more awake, but her tired eyes are still barely half-open. 

** Dreams are not something easily explained, even by a scientist. The way the brain can pull you into your subconscious for several hours a night is a mystery. While you sleep your body is being repaired and you enter a world you could swear is reality. Maybe your spirit is touching your own body for a time, but then you wake up, it's as if nothing ever happened. No matter what, dreams are significant and should never be ignored. **

Sitting on her bed, Scully looks over at the clock. It reads 1:01 AM. Before she can change her mind she picks up the phone and dials a number she knows by heart.

It does not ring; instead Scully gets a busy signal in her ear.

"I wonder what sweet-talking woman Mulder's listening to at this time of night!" she thinks while slamming down the receiver.

Scully grumbles to herself about, "What if life had been different." She sits awake the rest of the night.*****

In his apartment an adult Mulder bolts upright on his couch. With his tongue he licks his mouth, willing the feeling of an almost-kiss to stay.

He slowly becomes aware of his surroundings. He instinctively touches his cheek and nose, where bruises or swelling would be.

"I didn't even do it right in a dream…" he mutters miserably. 

Papers and an empty pizza box were lying on his lap. Mulder pushes them onto the floor as he gets up. On his way to the bathroom he flicks off the TV. He drags his feet all the way to the sink, which he turns on, and splashes his face.

The water forms droplets that run down his neck as he gazes into the mirror. In his mind he debates with himself, considering, weighing out the odds.

With slightly more determined steps he walks back out to the living room. He's still in a half-awake state.

** Dreams often reflect your own hopes and fantasies, whether subconscious or not. They are often involving real people or events. You see, hear, and even feel. Sometimes dreams can be premonitions, other times bringing up the past. Usually you will forget them soon after waking up. If you do remember you are very lucky. No matter what, dreams are significant and should never be ignored. **

Sitting on his leather couch, Mulder looks at the tiny green numbers on his VCR. It reads 

1: 01AM. Without hesitation he picks up his cordless phone and dials a number he knows by heart.

Instead of hearing a ringing sound, Mulder gets a busy signal in his ear.

"What kind of guy would be talking to Scully at this time of night?" he thinks.

With vengeance Mulder presses the 'off' button and grumbles about, "What if life was different." He sits awake the rest of the night.

*****

The next day:

Scully rubs her tired eyes as she pulls her car to a stop at the entrance of the FBI parking lot. She glances at the parking attendant long enough to see the long blond hair that's pulled into a tight bun. When she is not handed a ticket, Scully looks up to find the woman deeply engrossed in the book she's reading. The title is something about Lost Love.

"Ahem," Scully clears her throat, hoping the woman will get the hint. When the attendant's violet eyes don't look up from the pages, Scully yells, "Excuse me!"

"What?" The woman lazily licks her cherry red lips. She stretches. "Oh, do your parking voucher?"

Scully snatches the paper from the woman's slender white fingers. (She can be quite moody when sleep deprived.) She squints at the picture-perfect face in front of her. "Do I know you?"

The woman glances up for a moment and shrugs. "You're Mrs. Spooky, right? You have that _fine_ looking partner?"

Something in her voice triggers Scully. She reaches across the space between her car window and the booth. She grabs the woman's nametag. It reads Vera.

Scully's mouth turns dry and the color drains from her face. She sees Vera's lips move, but only hears the last thing she says, "…okay, lady? Now, honey, I was just trying to give you some friendly advice. Let go of me! You don't want to do this…"

"Why? What was your advice?" Scully asks.

"I mean, there's a video camera. You don't want your FBI boss to see you assaulting me. I only said that Fox Mulder is bad news and you should leave him alone," Vera explains.

Scully slaps her across the face. "I don't care about that camera! Don't you ever come near me again! And don't you dare speak of Mulder that way!"

Vera drops her book and holds her hands up in the air. "Hey, calm down! I was just repeating rumors. Maybe they're wrong."

Scully stares at her for another moment and then parks her car. She hopes she didn't just make a fool of herself. It _was_ just a dream, right? 

She sees Mulder and catches up to him. Together they walk into the basement of the J. Edgar Hoover building. They both glare at the FBI headquarters' walls, as if it is to blame for their lack of sleep or the way their lives turned out.

Their eyes are bloodshot with bags under them. Scully's hair is uncharacteristically out of order; Mulder's tie is on backwards.

"Rough night?" he asks.

"A long dream," she replies.

Mulder exclaims, "Dreams: streams of sub-consciousness, playing out hopes or fantasies. Sometimes they can be so real you could swear they actually happened, or should have…if life was different."

Their eyes lock; hearts quicken. They think:

"Could Scully also have…?"

"Would Mulder dream…?"

"No."

"No."

They turn away; tension unresolved.

Mulder absently licks his lips while Scully touches her own.

Though thoughts run faster than the speed of light, two brains manage to simultaneously think: "High school had its highs; but some things will never be matched to the power of dreams that set free the imagination."

The End!


End file.
